


Chained To You

by Kittenshift17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Angst, Double Penetration, Drama, Drinking Games, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Femslash, Fluff, Multi, Romance, Slash, Smut, linking jewellery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenshift17/pseuds/Kittenshift17
Summary: When Hermione returns to Hogwarts alongside many of her peers to complete her 8th year, she is not expecting the course of events that will lead her into a game of seduction, lies, deceit and mind-blowing sex. She certainly never expected it to have anything to do with what Draco Malfoy did to her at Malfoy Manor during the war.





	1. Prologue

His heart raced in his chest as he dragged the terrified mudblood free of her shouting companions and out of the dungeons. He'd been sent to fetch her by his deranged aunt, who screamed her frustration and was currently torturing the werewolf and the other snatchers of the sword that the Golden Trio had been carrying. He should've known that the one she'd choose to torture would be Mudblood Granger.

"Malfoy, don't!" She whispered, looking at him with terrified eyes and trying feebly to fight free of the tight grip he had on her upper arm as he dragged her up the stairs. "Please don't take me in there. Help us! Free us!"

"You weren't supposed to get caught!" He hissed back at her, levelling her a glare over her shoulder. "As soon as that jinx wears off you're all fucked. We're all fucked!"

"So help us!" the mudblood growled back at him, dragging her arm from his grip and swatting him away when he reached for her again. "Can you get us out of here?"

"I can't," Malfoy ground out through clenched teeth. "I already lied to buy you some time. If I get caught, He'll kill my whole family!"

She made a sound of frustration, looking like she thought all hope was lost even though he could see that behind those muddy brown eyes her brilliant mind was racing. As he stared at her Draco made a snap decision. He couldn't get her out of there. Not with his psychotic, mentally unhinged Aunt screaming about the idea of them having stolen something from her Gringott's vault, but he could buy them more time. He could make it not hurt so much that Granger would be forced to give up the truth. He could make it so that she wouldn't go insane beneath the evil ministrations of his terrible aunt.

"Damn it!" he snarled under his breath, cursing that this would be the time to find what little courage he'd managed to scrape together. "This way Granger."

Draco snagged up her hand and tugged it hard, holding it in a crushing grip as he hauled her along behind him, breaking into a run as he headed for the nearest staircase.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, fearful now as she stumbled along trying to keep up with him as he ran through the Manor as fast as her wounded body would allow. Draco didn't answer as he hauled her up the many staircases and down the many halls until he dragged her into his bedroom, slamming the door and warding it lest anyone see them or follow them, or even simply be listening at the door.

"What are you doing?" the mudblood demanded, eyeing him as though he'd gone mad. He rolled his eyes when she eyed his bed fearfully as though he thought he was going to demand that he be allowed to fuck her if she wanted his help.  _What was wrong with the little idiot?_

"I can't get you out of here without getting myself killed," he ground out. "But I can help. She's going to torture you, Granger. She thinks you've been in her vault at Gringotts and she's unstable at best. Her cruciatus curse may be the worst thing you ever experience."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, aghast as the terror in her eyes grew.

"I'm going to help you. I can't get you out this, but I can make it hurt less," Draco told her hurriedly, racing across his room and digging his hand into the box on his desk where he kept a store of charmed trinkets that helped suppress the effects of the Unforgiveables. "If you put this on, it will lessen the pain you feel under the Cruciatus curse."

He held the goblin made silver chain and small cluster-rune pendant out to her. There was an identical one to it hanging around his own throat, though he didn't really take that much notice at the time, as protection against the worst of the Unforgivable's torturous nature. He knew it wouldn't help much, but thus far it had helped him enough.

"How will a necklace help?" She demanded, completely confused now and bordering on hysterical if the glint in her eyes was anything to go by.

"I found some curses and charms that protect against some of the pain of the Cruciatus curse. That suppress them," Draco told her. "And because I don't fucking like being tortured any more than you will, I privately made these so that it wouldn't hurt so much."

When she didn't take it immediately, Draco strode towards her and fastened the chain around her neck. There was no time to worry about convincing her, nor even to mention that once it was one it wasn't going to come back off very easily. The hatred between the two of them, all the hostility, all the pain and anguish they'd inflicted upon each other at school. None of that mattered in that moment as Draco hooked the clasp closed at the back of her neck, pushing aside her god-awful hair to do so. He didn't even shudder at the feel of her filthy mudblood skin touching his.

None of that mattered when the only hope at seeing the Dark Lord defeated was sitting in his family's dungeon, relying on the girl in from of Draco not to sell him out under the tortuous infliction of his crazy aunt. When it was all over, they could go back to their hatred but right then, in that moment, the only thing that mattered to Draco was making sure the Golden Trio ha enough time to get themselves out of this time and that he and his parents lived through this stupid war.

"Come on, before they realise what I've done," he said dragging her right back out of his room and back through the Manor. When they reached the Drawing Room where his aunt still raged she shrieked at him in her fury.

"What took so long?" she wanted to know, rushing him and already aiming her wand at Granger.

"She escaped me," Draco lied quickly, stomping on Granger's foot for good measure. "Kicked me in the… Anyway, she tried to run, but I caught her."

Draco saw the way the mudblood glared her hatred at him in spite of what he'd just risked to help her. The ungrateful bint!

As his Aunt laughed with maniacal glee before she began torturing the mudblood, Draco felt a twinge of unease. In the torturous times that followed, as she writhed on the floor, spilling her filthy blood all over the stone and tearing her nails from their beds as she dragged them into the unforgiving floor, Draco looked on miserably, trying to shut out the sound of her screaming.

It wasn't until Dobby dropped a chandelier on his aunt and Potter was wrestling his wand from his grip that Draco realised that he'd forgotten to mention the side effects of wearing the chain hanging around her neck and putting the charms to use.

Before he could do so, they were gone.


	2. The Return to Hogwarts

Being back at Hogwarts felt strange to Hermione. As she glanced around the Great Hall, she could hardly believe that just a few short months ago half the school had been a mess of rubble and blood. That this had been the site of the Final Battle against Voldemort and also, Hermione hoped, against blood prejudice.

It felt even stranger to be sitting there at the Gryffindor table without Harry and Ron beside her. Ginny sat to her left, having returned to complete her 7th year. Harry and Ron had both decided that they preferred to go straight into the Auror training rather than 'wasting' a year, as they'd put it. Hermione wasn't the only 8th year student to have returned, however, and so she didn't feel totally alone or odd for having wanted to simply revel in the feel of attending school while the most stressful thing to deal with was homework. All in all, some twenty students from her year had returned to complete their NEWTs year and graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Beside Hermione on her right sat Neville Longbottom. Next to him both Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were seated. Parvati Patil sat across from them, and her sister Padma was beside her rather than over at the Ravenclaw table. Across the hall Hermione could see Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones. Further away still, over at the Slytherin table she could even see the likes of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parksinson and many of the other Slytherin students. Those who'd been acquitted, that is.

Hermione paid little attention as the first years were Sorted, focusing instead on the changes that had been made to the castle and the way so many of the other students whispered about the idea of Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins who'd taken the Dark Mark during the war had returned to the school.

"I can't believe they all came back," Ginny whispered beside her with a pointed glance in the direction of their former enemies.

"It was part of their probation," Hermione replied, her hands toying distractedly - as they so often did - with the silver chain that hung around her neck.

"Oh, really?" Ginny asked, and Hermione knew that many of her peers were listening to her.

"Yes. In order to prove that they've repented or that they were coerced to join the Dark side, they had to return to the scene of the battle and complete the education denied to them, without causing any incidents or sparking any old house rivalries or enmities," Hermione told her classmates, knowing that it was the case because she'd been called upon to sit in on all of their trials before the Wizengamot.

"Doesn't seem right to me," Seamus grumbled, "How could McGonagall let them back in here? After what some of them did?"

"McGonagall is more like Dumbledore than you think, Seamus. She believes that they're young and that most of them were misguided by the wayward thinking of their families. Or that they coerced into joining that side under threat to their lives and the lives of their families should they fight against Voldemort," Hermione told him, her eyes still dancing over the ceiling where parts of it had been replaced, "She's also, first and foremost, a teacher. That means she believes that people should be given the chance to learn the error of their ways, even in the face of their mistakes."

"So you're alright with all of them being here?" Dean asked, who happened to be levelling a glare in the direction of Malfoy for how he'd been temporarily detained in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor.

"I'm the reason most of them were acquitted," Hermione told him mildly, "They're not so different from you and me, Dean. Sure, they've got their own boatload of emotional and psychological baggage thanks to the way they were all raised. And yes, some of them were on the wrong side of the war in a big way. But if they had been guilty of crimes they would be sitting in prison cells, not over there at the Slytherin table trying to ignore the amount of abuse being hissed at them from everyone else."

Dean bristled at that.

"I watched that bastard drag you from a cell to be tortured!" He growled in a low voice, leaning forwards a little so as not to make more of a scene than they already were. "How can you sit there and say that it's okay that they're free?"

Hermione slowly turned her gaze from the ceiling to settle it sternly on Dean and Seamus.

"I can do it because I know he had no choice. Think about it, Dean. Stop stewing in your hatred and really  _think_  about what it might've been like to be them during the war," Hermione told them in a deadly serious voice that suggested further argument with her would result in something neither boy was ready for. "Think about what it might've been like to have been born into that world of prejudice. Think about what it would be like to know nothing else. Until people like Malfoy arrived at Hogwarts, mudbloods were something nasty they'd been told they might encounter. Something dirty and unwanted. That's all they knew. These families, they don't think the same way that you and I think. They don't see a person's value through their actions and their choices. They see only what they've been told all their life is beneath them. Is less than them. Is offensive to them."

Hermione paused to allow them a moment to imagine what that might be like.

"Now think about having those things change when you meet someone and realise that they're not some terrible, dirty, criminal thing that one should revile, but instead just another person in the classroom. Imagine what it would be like to have parents and grandparents who'd spent so long away from it all that the brainwashing takes root and buries deep. Imagine a man coming to you and your family and telling you he has plans to eradicate what you've been told all your life is basically fungus. How could you not be on board with it? You don't think of them as people, but as foul things you don't like to think about at all."

"That doesn't give them the right!" Dean argued, though he looked a little less hostile. "They joined _Him,_ Hermione. They sat with you and me and all the other muggleborns in our classrooms for six years and still they joined the team that wanted us dead!"

"Did you ever consider that maybe they didn't have a choice?" Hermione asked him. "That if your parents had made a mistake and signed up to do something; something it turned out was a whole lot worse in reality than they thought it would be in theory; that you'd be able to do anything but go along with them? That not joining them might've resulted in you being disowned by your family? That resisting when your parents were already in bound agreements to go along with it, might've gotten them hurt or killed? Could you do that to your parents? Could you turn your back on the suffering they would feel? Could you act against their master, knowing it would cause them pain?"

Hermione was vaguely aware of the fact that by now many of the students throughout the hall and indeed the teachers had all fallen silent as they argument grew louder.

"I would never have to."

"You don't _know_ that," Hermione told him firmly. "One of the easiest things in the world is to convince a person of something once the idea is planted. It may be that some terrible thing might happen where you're put in a position that means you have to choose between doing what's right or protecting yourself and your family from harm. Do you really mean to sit there and tell me that if that ever happened, if you ever had to make that choice, you would put yourself and your family in danger just to do what's right?"

Dean didn't answer, but the sullen glare on his face was all the answer anyone really needed. Hermione held his gaze knowingly.

"If you can't even imagine doing it, how can you sit there demanding that they should've done it?" Hermione asked him rhetorically. She didn't need an answer. She knew how he could ask it. It had once been her own way of thinking to hate people for the choices they'd made during the war.

"So, that just excuses them?" Seamus picked up the argument, not yet looking one hundred percent convinced that the former Death Eaters should be allowed to return to Hogwarts. She sighed in annoyance at the hot-headedness of her fellow Gryffindors and at the fact that many of the other students, who by now were all listening to the argument that had disrupted the feast, were nodding in agreement.

"That just makes it okay?" He pushed. "It's alright with you that the person who victimized you, who called you a mudblood, who was rude to you and mean to you, who wanted you dead, who tried to kill people, is allowed anywhere near normal people again? After the abuse you suffered? The lies he told about you?"

Hermione knew that the biggest problem everyone had was with Draco Malfoy. Sure, Theodore Nott had been dragged into the inner circle and branded a Death Eater just like his father. So had Goyle and Parkinson and several others. But they weren't as well known around the school as Malfoy. They weren't as despised.

Taking a deep breath Hermione swept her gaze over the entire hall. She could feel their eyes all fixed on her. All of them awaiting her answer.

"Let me put it to you this way Seamus," Hermione told him in a strong voice, her eyes flashing dangerously as her back straightened and her chin lifted, her entire posture transforming to one that brooked no further hint of this argument. "Harry, Ron and I would have all died last winter if it weren't for the lies he told  _for_  me."

Utter silence followed her statement and for several long minutes the whole hall held its breath. It was a palpable silence, one that flirted dangerously with further argument, should some brave, foolish soul choose to continue in such a vein. Hermione was thankful as her gaze swept the hall again that no one looked ready to say a word. Finally, when she was sure no one would bring up the topic again, she nudged Neville's elbow.

"Pass the spuds, would you?"

Neville snorted just a little bit at her nonchalant request and as he handed her the dish everyone else slowly fell back to eating and talking amongst themselves. As she leaned over a little to put the dish back once she'd served herself, Hermione made the mistake of letting her gaze stray to the far side of the hall.

Honey brown clashed with stormy silver across the expanse and Hermione flinched minutely as she met the gaze of none other than the boy she'd just defended. Every Slytherin in 8th year was staring at her, more than a few of them with begrudging expressions of gratitude showing on their faces. She supposed it must be strange for them to be in this situation. It was one thing, after all, to have been disliked in previous years merely for being in Slytherin. It was entirely another to be wholly despised by the entire school on an individual level to such an extent that an argument about it had broken out at the Welcoming Feast.

As she stared across the hall at Malfoy, Hermione felt the subconscious way her hand had once again drifted distractedly to the silver pendant that hung around her neck. The one that had hung there since that day in Malfoy Manor when he'd snapped the clasp closed inside his bedroom. She'd tried a thousand times to take the wretched thing off and nothing worked. She didn't know what he'd done to it, but she did know that even a brush with material that destroyed horcruxes hadn't removed the thing from her throat.

Malfoy stared back at her with that blank stare he'd so perfected and Hermione reminded herself never to play poker against him. His face literally gave nothing of his thoughts or emotions away, leaving her wondering how he felt about sharing with the entire school that if it weren't for what he'd done, they'd be dead.

At least he looked better than he had done the last time she'd seen him.

The last time Hermione had laid eyes on Draco Malfoy had been at his trial, where he'd been hauled in after several weeks spent in Azkaban. All the dementors had been dismissed, but Hermione knew that his stint in that place would haunt him all his life. She knew it would haunt all of her Slytherin peers who had been arrested and detained in freezing, filthy cells for weeks and months. He'd looked filthy then, his face gaunt and haggard and dirty with grime. His prison robes had hung off his emaciated form and there had been an emptiness to his eyes that had sent a chill through all who'd seen it.

The summer had done him some good at least. He's regained the weight he'd lost during the war and his prison stay, as many of them had, and his robes fit his lean frame snugly. Snugly enough that she could see the bulge of his bicep beneath his white school shirt when he reached for a dish of something without looking away from her. His hair was clean and had been cut, hanging into his eyes rather than almost to his chin in the unkempt, greasy strands she recalled from his trial. His face was full, though as pointed as ever, and the dark circles beneath his eyes were almost gone.

When his eyes dipped away from her own and his brow wrinkled just the slightest bit, Hermione realise she was toying with the necklace he'd given her once more and she quickly dropped the pendant she so often found herself tracing with her thumb. On bad days she'd even caught herself chewing the sodding thing. She looked away from Malfoy, returning her attention to her food. She had a terrible thought that he might think she had somehow kept the stupid thing for sentimental reasons or some such rot, rather than that she had tried literally everything and simply could not get the blasted thing off.

Focusing on finishing her dinner and dessert while chatting pleasantly with Ginny, Neville and the Patil twins, Hermione did her best to ignore the fact that she was certain Malfoy was still watching her.

 

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

 

Draco Malfoy had never been more shocked in his life than when he'd heard the sound of Hermione Granger defending him against her fellow Gryffindors. He'd been the focus of much displeasure from all but his immediate group of colleagues who shared his unfortunate fate of being former Death Eaters, forced to return to school. Their hatred was a living, breathing entity, one that seemed set on tearing him and his associates all to shreds. He could feel the palpable violence of it in the air, and more than once already he'd had abuse hurled at him.

None had yet been foolish to attempt duelling him, Theo, Greg or Blaise. They wanted to, it was obvious, but they weren't gutsy enough. Draco imagined it must have something to do with the idea that if they had survived the war at the hands of the Dark Lord, they might've learned a nasty hex or two to deal with such revolt. In all honesty, Draco had already been growing tired of it by the time the feast had begun and it had only been Blaise's forceful grip on his wand arm that head kept Draco from turning and hexing the face off the rude little cunt that had called them all a pack of cock-sucking, snake-fucking sons of sluts.

He'd been ready to do it, too. To break his probation on the very first day just to get these bastards to back the fuck off. They didn't know! They didn't know why he or any of his associates had done what they did. They didn't know what it was like to be faced with a family so deep in the dark arts and so enraptured with the Dark Lord that there was no escape. They had never had to choose between their families and the right thing. They'd never sat in the Dark Lord's presence as he held a 'dinner party', looking on in disgust as that fucking snake had feasted on one of their teachers.

They didn't know what it was like to suffer the Cruciatus at the hands of the Dark Lord or Bellatrix LeStrange. They didn't know what it was like to be calmly sitting in their own house, minding their own business and trying to keep their fucking heads down, only to suddenly find themselves hauled before a megalomaniac and tortured simply to be reminded of their place. They didn't even know that everything they imagined they had suffered, everything they thought they'd endured as a muggle-born or a half-blood, the fear they thought that knew; they had no clue that it was but a smidgeon of what the Dark Lord had forced his followers to endure. To revel in.

They had never sat through an 'exhibition' planned by Voldemort. They'd never watched naked muggle women dragged sobbing and screaming before them all to be tortured and raped by the sickest of the Dark Lord's loyal subjects. They'd never seen a werewolf eat another human being whilst still in human form. They didn't know a fucking thing of what it had been like to be a Death Eater and they had the nerve to sit there and sneer about the poor life choice he and Theo and the others had all been forced into making?

Draco had been ready to say to hell with his fucking freedom, he'd show these sodding cunts just a glimpse of what it had been like to go through the fucking war as a Death Eater. Especially as an unwilling one.

When he'd heard the fight break out at the Gryffindor table, sparked by one of those self-righteous bastards who wanted to whinge that Draco and his colleagues had been forced into returning, even Blaise had stiffened. He'd been sure that this was it. This was the moment that the rest of these sneering, whinging sods would revolt and turn on them, would finish what they'd started in the battle here months earlier. In some ways, Draco couldn't even blame them. Not that it stopped him. He had endured far worse than anything he'd ever dished out.

He'd had his wand clenched in his hand, ready to leap to his feet and flee for his life if need be and then they'd all heard it. The one voice in the hall that carried more sway than any other at that time.

Granger.

The War Heroine. Order of Merlin, First Class. The brains of the Golden Trio. The reason that Potter and Weasley had survived long enough to fumble their way through the war until the Dark Lord's defeat. The reason he and Theo and the others had even been released from prison in the first place.

He'd heard her testify at his trial through the haze of starvation and dehydration. Through the fog of being forcibly fed Veritaserum and kept chained in a chair like the criminal he was.

As she spoke out now over the din of every voice in the hall, her voice strong and steady, calm even in the face of the anger her friends spewed, Draco knew he hadn't been the only one to hold his breath. And he'd nearly fainted at what she'd had to say. There she was, one of the few sitting in this hall who had any real idea of just how awful things had been during the war, and rather than leading the revolt to oust them and send them packing, she defended them. She demanded that her friends, that anyone not a pureblood born to the families who'd joined the Dark cause, imagine for even a moment how they could've done so. That they put themselves in his shoes and think about what they might have done to protect themselves and their families.

When she'd talked Dean Thomas down, Draco had hoped that would be the end of it. But then that Irish fuck had spoken out, targeting him in particular, playing on the rocky past he and Granger shared, trying to turn her from her conviction that they'd only done what they had to in order to survive. Her pause had been like torture. Her gaze sweeping the hall, assessing the hatred and violence that was coiled and ready to release, had been one of the longest moments of Draco's short life.

He'd been sure in that moment that every awful thing he'd ever done to her would sway her decision, would turn her against him once more. He'd never expected her to defend him. To throw it in all their faces that if he hadn't lied to his aunt, if he hadn't lied about who they were, they'd all be dead right now. He wondered if she knew the way the words she didn't say resonated with the salivating crowd. If she knew that she'd implied that had Draco not lied to save them, not only would she, Potter and Weasley be dead, but they all would. Dead, or wishing they were. He wondered if the silence that followed brought home to her the fact that she'd basically just told them all that if not for him, they'd all be rotting in the ground.

"Didn't see that coming," Theo muttered when everyone returned to eating, not a soul muttering even so much as another word on the topic of Draco and his friends being back at Hogwarts.

"I thought we were fucked," Greg mumbled, scrubbing one of his beefy fists over his face and rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to relieve the tension there. Draco said nothing. He simply watched her.

She'd put on some of the weight he remembered her losing during the war. Her cheekbones and collarbones didn't stand out so sharply anymore; her eyes didn't bug out of her head as though too big for her gaunt face. She certainly was nothing like the buck-toothed, frizzy hair, ugly little duckling he recalled from their first year. When she stared back at him, Draco watched the way her eyes assessed him just as his assessed her. She gave little of her thoughts away as she held his gaze, surprising him not only with the fact that she actually stared back for as long as she did, but also by the fact that she no longer seemed so easy to rattle.

"You're staring," Blaise nudged him and Draco blinked, dragging his gaze away from her. She'd been toying with the chain he'd given her, and he could tell from the actions and the way she reacted when she realised, that she hadn't been doing it on purpose. Just as the one around his own neck was still steadfastly clasped, Draco knew she still wore it. She had no choice. They didn't come off. He hadn't know that then, of course. When he'd given it to her.

He hadn't known then about a lot of the side effects that would come from wearing the piece of cursed jewellery that couldn't be removed.


	3. The Unified House

"Good evening students and welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began when the last plates of dessert had vanished, "As you are all aware, the curriculum was greatly disturbed last year. As such, we have some students among us who were unable to complete their education at last year that will be attending classes alongside the current seventh year students."

She paused to draw breath and Hermione nodded.

"Now, before I continue, I would like to take the time to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Pilloton, who has graciously agreed to leave his post with the Ministry to teach all of you."

She paused to applaud the Professor, who blushed pink and waved his hand bashfully, causing a few students to titter in amusement. He was an unremarkable man compared to their past teachers. Perhaps in his late thirties or early forties, his had salt and pepper hair, black streaked through with grey, and laugh lines.

"In addition to Professor Pilloton, joining us as my replacement to teach Transfiguration is Professor Krum, though many of you will know him from his years as a Bulgarian Quidditch star," Professor McGonagall introduced the other new teacher seated at the table and Hermione did a double take when her eyes landed on Viktor Krum, former Bulgarian Seeker.

During her time on the run she'd fallen out of contact with Viktor though she'd heard he'd retired from the Quidditch world. She certainly hadn't expected to see him here, sitting at the table as one of her teachers and she felt herself blush, recalling that in the past she'd snogged him.

"Did you know he was coming?" Ginny leaned over and asked her. Hermione shook her head mutely.

"Now, many of you may recall Professor Krum joining us here at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, and many more of you from his time as a professional Quidditch player. He has asked that you all respect his privacy and not pry into his life by demanding autographs. And Miss Goosewillow, put your tongue away before you drool on somebody!" McGonagall scolded, causing a hyperventilating fourth year girl to blush furiously and the rest of the students to chuckle.

"Our care taker, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students. There is also an extensive list of banned items, which can be viewed outside his office on the first floor. Take note of it, because if you're caught with banned items you will be punished several," McGonagall continued, "Prefects, please show the first years to your houses. Students of 7th and 8th year, please remain behind for further instructions."

Hermione looked quizzically at Ginny for a moment before realising that of course the students would be asked to remain behind. They would be sharing classes and such, not to mention that the underlying tension of having students who had fought in the war occupying the same space once more needed to be addressed.

As the rest of the younger students vacated the Great Hall, Hermione found her eyes drawn to Krum once more. He was getting to his feet alongside the other professors, but Hermione caught the way he kept shooting glances in her direction. When he saw her looking back, a smile spread across his usually surly face and Hermione felt a return smiled curl her lips. She was pleased to see him, though mildly embarrassed that he would now be her teacher, rather than the friend she kept correspondence with and the young man she'd once had the privilege of snogging.

She could tell that he wanted to come over and greet her properly, but Hermione knew it would be inappropriate. He was her teacher now and while she was sure they could maintain a friendship, Hermione knew that Viktor had always had a little more than friendship on his mind. He hesitated as he turned towards her before he shook his head just a bit and smiled tightly, turning and following the other teachers out of the hall.

When only the 7th and 8th years remained, McGonagall asked them all to move towards the teachers table so she wouldn't have to speak so loud.

"Now then," she began, smiling at them fondly, "As we are all no doubt aware, most, if not all of you played some role in the war and I can understand that some of you may still have trouble adjusting to the way things are now that the war is over. Please know that if you have any concerns or are having trouble with anything, you can come to me or any one of my staff and we will do everything we can to help you."

Hermione smiled a little at the thoughtfulness of the Professor. She doubted she was the only one who suffered nightmares and cold sweats.

"Now, all of you will be taking your classes together this year due to the fact that our returning 8th year students missed their seventh year. As such there will be bigger class sizes, but I expect all of you are mature enough to be able to study without disturbing each other too much. However, while you will take classes together, you will not be sharing a living space. Unfortunately, due to the layout of the castle, there is simply no room in your House dormitories for our returning 8th year students to be accommodated."

Hermione frowned at that.

"Due to the small number of returning 8th year students, and the varying houses of each of you, not to mention some rivalries I will not see sparked again over housing, there has been a new addition to Hogwarts this year. The twenty two 8th year students will be moving into a new dormitory within Hogwarts called the Unified House."

Whispers began immediately.

"Now, before you 8th years are shown to your house and you 7th years return to your regular common rooms, I would like to take one small moment to comment on the incident that occurred during the feast," McGonagall said sternly.

Hermione caught the way Seamus and Dean both began to blush a little and the way many others glanced at her.

"Most of what I had to say was covered by Miss Granger, however, I will add that this is the time to let bygones be bygones. The War is over and all who have returned this to castle are welcome and accepted among your peers. I will not tolerate the rekindling of old rivalries, nor the creation of new ones. All of you are adults and I expect you to act as such. You don't have to particularly like each other but you do have to tolerate each other and practice common courtesies. Anyone caught deviating from those courtesies will be punished. Is that clear?"

Hermione nodded as the Professor swept her shrewd gaze over the gathered students.

"Excellent. Well then, 7th years off to bed with you; 8th years, if you wouldn't mind following me, I will show you to your new dormitory."

With that she led the way out of the hall. Hermione wasn't the only one to follow in curious silence. The Headmistress led the gathered group to the second floor, where she stopped in from of a statue of a boy and a girl holding hands.

"Flibbertigibbet," The headmistress intoned and the children of the statue sprang apart, lifting their joined hands to reveal a hidden door. She led the way inside to the sound of surprised and pleased mutterings from the gathered 8th year students.

Within the new room was a common room like any other, with a hearth fire, squashy armchairs and desks available to the students. There was also a large table where they could all be seated comfortably with one another, should they feel the need for gathering together.

"If you could all take a seat I will begin to explain the way this new living arrangement will work for all of you," McGonagall said, waving her hand towards the table and indicating they should all be seated.

"I recognise that all of you are of age and as such expect you to conduct yourselves responsibly. You are not to invite students from any other year into this common room. Each of you, in light of your age and experiences, will have your own dormitory, as indicated by your name on the door. The bathrooms will be shared by all of you. Within these walls, given your maturity, I will refrain for now from putting a curfew on any of you, but those wandering at inappropriate hours will be required to justify their actions. In addition to that you will all be allowed to access Hogsmeade at your leisure. As long as you do not cause trouble and your studies do not suffer, you will be given the freedom to live as you see fit."

"What? No rules?" Neville asked, looking startled at the notion, "Co-ed dorms and bathrooms?"

"That's right Mr Longbottom. You are all young adults. All of you have experienced more than many people my own age, and as such I trust that you can conduct yourselves accordingly. As long as you do not breach the school rules, there are few other rules I feel the need impose upon you. You will find that all of your belonging have been brought to your rooms, and I will see you all bright and early for breakfast tomorrow, where you will receive your time-tables for the year."

With that she bid them all goodnight and left them all sitting a little gobsmacked at the table. Hermione stared around at her gathered and surprised peers, all of whom didn't seem to know quite what to make of the idea of them all living together.

"Well, you know what this means?" Blaise Zabini said after a long moment of silence. Hermione watched him as he strode over to the door along the far wall that bore a plaque with his name inscribed on it. He threw open the door, wandered in and reappeared a few seconds later clutching two full bottles of whiskey.

"Drinking game!" He cheered happily.


	4. Know Thy Enemy

Hermione didn't know whether to be appalled or amused, even as Malfoy began drawing up enough glasses for everybody while Blaise poured. She glanced at the rest of the Slytherins – all of whom seemed on board with the idea, and then at her fellow Gryffindors - who looked a little shocked and more than a little suspicious.

"You can't be serious?" Hermione asked of Zabini as he began passing out glasses of whiskey.

"Oh come on, Granger," he ribbed her immediately. "Don't be dull. It's no secret that there's some tension between us all, and if we're going to live here harmoniously I think the best way to do that would be for us all to get to know each other a little better."

"How does drinking result in us knowing each other better?" Susan Bones asked, frowning.

"It'll loosen our tongues; help us relax," Theodore Nott told her. He sounded so sure of it that many of the others began to look like they might as well give it a go. All but the Gryffindors.

Thinking quickly before any kind of argument could spring up, Hermione tried to think of a way to incorporate the idea of them all learning to trust one another a little and not feeling the need to fight. She was mildly embarrassed with what she landed on, but it would have to do.

"I propose a game," Hermione said, taking the glass Malfoy skidded across the table to her and lifting it to her lips, sipping it easily to show she trusted that it wasn't poisoned.

"I love games!" Blaise Zabini said, a wicked smirk gracing his features that suggested he liked games of a more sinister, clothing-optional sort.

"Mind out of the gutter, Zabini," Hermione chided though she softened the admonishment with a grin, "Who here knows how to play Truth or Dare?"

"I think the more important question would be what rock have you been living under if you don't?" Malfoy intoned drily, smirking as he took a liberal gulp of his drink.

"Aren't we a little old for Truth or Dare?" Pansy Parkinson whined.

"Probably," Hermione shrugged a little, "But personally I'd kind of like the chance to do something silly and immature for a change…. Besides, we can incorporate Zabini's idea of all of us getting to know one another better. I propose we combine the notion of a truth or dare scenario with the game 'I never' – meaning that we go around in a circle saying things we have or haven't done. If you've done the thing, you take a drink and must submit to a truth or dare option and be instructed accordingly. If you don't feel comfortable answering the truth questions proposed to you then you do a dare instead. And since we might as well really loosen tongues if we want to get anywhere with the notion of trusting one another, you must also skol your drink every time you do a dare."

"What's 'I never'?" Parvati asked warily.

"Have you never played before?" Hermione asked, surprised by the Slytherin girl's question.

"I don't think that's a wizarding game, Granger," Blaise Zabini intoned, also frowning a little.

"Oh," Hermione said, "Well, 'I never' is a game where we go around in a circle and propose scenarios of something we have or haven't done. For example, I would say 'I've never eaten lamprey pie' and if you've done it, you must take a drink and submit to truth or dare. If you haven't the game continues until someone propose something someone has done."

"How wild are these scenarios allowed to get?" Theodore Nott wanted to know.

Hermione glanced around at the gathered group, realising in a hurry that people like Nott clearly had all kinds of exciting things they'd done, and probably wanted to know who else was a depraved soul. Whereas people like Susan Bones looked so sweet and innocent that Hermione worried they might offend the poor Hufflepuff's sensibilities. Biting her lip for a moment, Hermione considered the question carefully.

And then she made the mistake of meeting the daring and scornful gaze of Draco Malfoy. She could tell that he and the other Slytherins all thought she was too sensible and too much a stick-in-the-mud to play along with any kind of 'I never' instance that flirted with depravity.

Before she could think better of the situation, Hermione felt words pour out of her mouth.

"In the spirit of getting to know each other better, I suppose they can be as wild as you like, Theodore," Hermione heard herself say and she caught the horrified look Neville and some of the others threw at her.

She also caught the way all of the Slytherins, particularly Malfoy, began to smirk like the cat who ate the canary.

"You can't be serious, Hermione?" Parvati asked. "Do you really want to run the risk of some left-field sexual scenario 'I never'?"

"I don't see why not," Hermione shrugged. "After all, outside of Nott, who's really going to have had an orgy?"

Blaise started choking on his drink and Neville emitted a strange noise of surprise at Hermione's word choice.

"Well when you put it like that, where's the fun, Granger?" Nott asked, though he looked wickedly amused by the idea of having them all think he'd had an orgy, "But were it the case that I'd had an orgy, the other people involved would also have had one."

"Have you had one?" Pansy Parkinson wanted to know, looking amused.

"You'll have to wait for the game to begin to find out," Nott told her, making most of the people at the table laughing at his evasiveness.

"There ought to be some conditions," Hermione decided, "For example, it's well and good to propose wild scenarios, but what guarantee do we have that we're all going to answer honestly?"

"And here I thought the goody-two-shoes of Gryffindor would be looking to exploit the rules and save herself some embarrassment by not imposing a truth charm," Malfoy drawled, sounding wickedly amused.

Hermione glanced at him.

"Within this group, I hardly think I'm the one prone to fibbing," she intoned, making sure to keep any tones of accusation out of her voice, "But there are some among us who might feel the need to keep such secrets close to their chest. And then how are we all going to get to know each other better?"

"Tell me you're joking?" Padma Patil asked, looking mildly concerned now.

"Not at all," Hermione felt a little smile slip across her face. "I have nothing to hide, after all. Do you?"

"I do," Seamus put his hand up, though he was grinning.

"Pretty sure no one cares that you buy Tornados undershorts, mate," Dean chuckled while Seamus blushed and began to laugh.

"Well isn't that a lovely image?" Pansy rolled her eyes sounding mildly ill.

"What about the dares?" Ernie MacMillan wanted to know, "Are there to be restrictions on what we can dare one another to do?"

"I suppose there had better be," Hermione sighed, "What about we say that there can be no daring people to do something that puts them in mortal danger, and no daring anyone to do something that breaks the law or the school rules? I don't fancy having McGonagall revoke our privileges on the first night."

"Good plan, Hermione," Neville said, having joined her in sipping form the cup he'd been given.

"Are we all agreed then?" Hannah Abbott asked.

"I think so," Hermione said, glancing around and seeing that everyone had begun to nod along.

"Does anyone else have more booze?" Seamus asked, "We're going to run out in a hurry if you have us sipping all night and skolling for the dares."

"We've got plenty," Blaise informed them, waving a hand toward himself and the rest of the Slytherins, who nodded.

"I've got some too," Dean said, "And I know where we can get plenty more."

"Aberforth won't sell us alcohol on the first night back," Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that was exactly who he meant.

"Sure he will, he's quite fond of us. He'd probably appreciate the business too," Neville said.

"Aberforth?" Blaise asked.

"Aberforth Dumbledore," Hermione told him, "He's the publican of The Hog's Head and Professor Dumbledore's brother. He helped the D.A. get food and things during the siege when the Carrows were running things here."

"I wondered how you lot didn't starve to death," Pansy said. "Thought it must've been the elves."

"Who wants to start us off?" Zabini asked, clearly more interested in the game than in discussing the past.

Everyone looked a little reluctant, so Blaise spun one of the empty whiskey bottles.

"Bones, it's on you. What's something you've never done that you think any of us might've tried?" Zabini said, drinking liberally from his own glass.

"Oh… um… I don't know… what about… I've never… stayed awake for more than thirty-six hours straight?" the blushing girl asked.

Hermione wasn't the only one to put her finger down.

"What happens when we've done it?" Pansy asked.

"You have to skol your drink. And the person who gave the scenario chooses the truth or dare questions we have to answer. So Susan, you need to ask us all a truth or dare," Hermione explained.

"Alright, truth or dare?" She asked of the group at large since they'd all had to drink as a result of her scenario.

"Truth!" Most of the people called out, while there were a few dares requested too. Hermione herself decided to go with truth.

"Oh dear," Susan said, looking flustered, her cheeks beginning to turn pink from the alcohol consumption and from being on the spot, "Well, those of you who pick truth… What's your biggest regret?"

"Can we change to dare if we don't want to answer?" Padma Patil wanted to know.

"I suppose so," Hermione nodded, "But before the dares begin, everyone choosing truth should answer…. Let's start with you Neville, unless you pick dare?"

"No, I pick truth… My biggest regret would be… that I didn't get the chance to personally avenge my parents," he said before taking a liberal gulp of his drink. Hermione felt her heart squeeze for her friend.

"Seamus?" she asked when everyone was silent for a moment.

"I said some pretty awful things to a person that I never got the chance to take back," he answered before he too took a long drink.

Hermione felt her brow crinkle with worry when she realised that discussing their biggest regrets wasn't the best way to start a game that was supposed to be fun.

"My biggest regret," Parvati said, tapping one finger to her chin thoughtfully, "Was that I didn't let the Russian boy I met at the Yule Ball in fourth year do more than snog me. He'd have been a good lay."

Hermione didn't know who was the first to snort with laughter but slowly the whole table began to chuckle and then outright laugh when Parvati looked on rather proudly as though she was pleased to have changed the topic to something funny and silly.

"What about you Padma?" Hermione asked.

"I'm choosing dare," Padma said, her cheeks darkening a little – making Hermione wonder what she was so regretful about that she wouldn't share it.

"Alright then, Malfoy? Biggest regret?" Hermione asked, glancing across the table as they went in a circle answering Susan's question.

For a long moment he didn't react, and Hermione knew she wasn't the only one who flinched when he jerked up his sleeve to expose the Dark Mark still branded into his skin. It had faded from the writhing black blemish Hermione recalled all of the Death Eater's sporting, but it was still visible against his skin, a vivid shade of red like an angry scar.

"Fair enough," Hermione said quietly, realising he had no intention of speaking when he slowly began to tug his sleeve back down.

"Blaise?" she asked.

Blaise Zabini copied Draco Malfoy, also raising his sleeve to expose the vivid red of the Dark Mark on his forearm. Around the entire circle of Slytherins it went, Greg Goyle, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis all lifting their sleeves to expose their Dark Marks as being the biggest regrets in their lives. The mood at the table grew sombre.

"Hannah, what about you?" Hermione asked as the Slytherins all set about lowering their sleeves once more.

"My biggest regret is being too young and too silly to be able to comprehend the psychological hardship my mother faced when my Dad left us. I regret not understanding her pain and making it worse by childishly asking when he was coming back and why he never saw us anymore," Hannah admitted in a soft voice, her eyes faraway.

"What about you, Granger?" Nott asked when it came to be her turn.

Hermione had to think hard about it. She didn't have many regrets. She'd lived her life in a way that had made her happy.

"Regret all that crazy studying?" Neville asked, nudging her with a little grin.

"Of course not," Hermione chuckled. As she pondered the question, Hermione found her fingers once again tracing the familiar lines of the pendant that hung around her neck and the answer occurred to her.

"My biggest regret," she said slowly as she lifted her head to stare across the table meaningfully at Malfoy, "Was forgetting to say thank you."

She wondered if she imagined the way his grey eyes widened just a little bit as he noticed her toying with the pendant he'd given her, understanding of exactly what she meant dawning on him.

"You forgot your manners?" Seamus asked, looking surprised.

"I was a little preoccupied at the time, and forgot to say so," Hermione nodded, choosing not to elaborate when Malfoy glanced away from her gaze as though uncomfortable with the reminder of what he'd done.

"Alright, that's everyone's truth out of the way," Susan said, clearly pleased with what she'd learned from her peers, "Now it's time for the dares."

Padma look nervous. She'd been the only one in the gathered group to choose dare and Hermione found herself wondering once again what she regretted so much that she wouldn't share it.

"Padma, I dare you to…" Susan paused for dramatic effect, "Snog the hottest boy in the room, in your opinion."

"Seriously?" Padma asked and Hermione thought for a moment that Padma was offended before a slow, almost predatory smile spread across her face.

"Unless you prefer girls," Blaise threw in, "Because I would love to watch you snogging any of the fine ladies here."

Padma rolled her eyes at Blaise while Pansy swatted him for being so lecherous. Hermione couldn't help but smile when Padma got to her feet and began stalking slowly around the table, lingering objectively on several of the gathered boys as though debating which she found to be the hottest. Everyone seemed a little surprised when she pounced on Seamus, snogging him so soundly that the Irish boy pulled her down into his lap, not wanting to let her go.

Cheers and laughter came from the gathered group when the snogging pair finally broke apart before the game moved on. When it came to Hermione's turn for an 'I never' scenario, she found herself trying to think of something really interesting and exciting. They already covered who was and wasn't a virgin and no surprise the only virgins at the table had been Neville, Susan, Hannah and Ernie. Everyone else, including Hermione, had had sex at least once.

As the night wore on the questions grew more and more outrageous and the alcohol plied them all into easy-going cheer and good spirits. The later the night grew the more some of them began to retire to beds. Susan stumbling away and almost falling over Ernie who had passed out on the way to his room. Hermione herself was feeling well and truly tipsy and thinking of something that wasn't wildly outrageous or inappropriate was difficult.

"I've never been skinny dipping," she settled on, wondering how many other people in the room had. She laughed a bit when all the Slytherins including Malfoy and Goyle indicated that they had and Hermione found herself feeling sorry for whichever poor soul had been skinny dipping with Goyle. She also couldn't believe her eyes when Neville indicated he had, and she chuckled when the Patil twins said they had too.

"How can you not have been skinny dipping, Hermione?" Parvati asked her seriously, looking mildly incredulous.

"The opportunity never arose," Hermione shrugged.

"I'm so daring you to skinny dip the next time it's on me to dare people," Parvati told her and Hermione felt her stomach drop at the very idea of going skinny dipping in front of all these people.

"Alright Granger, hit us with your Truth or Dare options," Blaise intoned and Hermione eyed them all speculatively.

"Hmm… Ok, Truth question is: who, if anyone, in this room have you ever had a sexual fantasy about that you've yet to indulge?" Hermione asked them all slyly, unable to keep her eyes from dancing across the faces of the gathered group.

"Parvati and Padma – at the same time, of course," Blaise admitted immediately, taking it upon himself to go first and slurring his words a little due to his level of intoxication. Both girls blushed, but Blaise was far from finished "And there was one about Daphne that she refuses to let me try. Had one about you the other night too, Granger."

Hermione eyed him speculatively, giggling a little while Daphne rolled her eyes, clearly aware of whatever fantasy he was speaking of and thinking it was too foolish or too humiliating to try. Hermione imagined that being that he was Blaise Zabini, it would most likely be a combination of both. She didn't doubt he had eclectic and rather dark desires.

"Charming," Hermione replied.

"I'll share it with you sometime if you're interested, Granger?" Blaise promised, winking sloppily and swaying a little in his seat. He'd been hitting the bottle hard and had chosen dare on a number of occasions, having to skol much more alcohol than the rest of them as a result.

"Pansy, anyone here striking your fancy you've yet to approach with the fantasy?" Hermione asked, moving the game along and choosing to ignore Blaise's offer.

Pansy pursed her lips speculatively for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to admit her fantasy.

"Dean," she admitted finally after long moments of silence and Dean glanced at her in surprise. Hermione couldn't tell what he thought of having the pug-nosed girl fantasising about him.

"What about you, Daphne?" Hermione asked the blonde girl. She was bookish and blonde and she reminded Hermione of the type of 'librarian' one might see in a pornographic film.

"I enact all my fantasies," Daphne said primly, "Those I don't are much too depraved to admit to."

"And yet you still won't let me lick honey off your…" Blaise began before Daphne silenced him, eyeing him in annoyance.

"If you bring that up again I'm going to bite you somewhere incredibly unpleasant Blaise Zabini," the blonde girl informed him and Hermione couldn't help but laugh when he paled slightly.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, finding herself curious about his answer.

He eyed her for a moment in silence.

"Dare me," he challenged rather than admitting to his fantasies and Hermione felt her curiosity spike dramatically.

"Ok," Hermione replied immediately, "I dare you to enact the fantasy."

"Now?" he asked, looking mildly alarmed and also wickedly amused.

"Unless you're too scared."

"You really don't want me to do that in front of people, Granger," he informed her, his grey eyes fixed on her in a way that made her tingly.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, realising he wouldn't do whatever it was he fantasised about in front of so many people, "But the dare stands. At some stage you will have to act on your fantasy with whoever it is you have them about."

"Consider it done," he replied, a smirk crawling across his face in a way that was entirely predatory.


	5. Drunk and Disorderly

"I've never had sex with a redhead," Draco Malfoy announced when it came to be his turn and Hermione knew from the way he was holding her gaze defiantly that he was only using that scenario to get her to drink.

Putting down a finger, Hermione threw back the shooter of whiskey she'd been given and skidded the glass across the table towards him, indicating he should pour her another.

"Should've known it would be Ron you lost your cherry too, Hermione," Parvati slurred before giggling.

Hermione started to giggle too at the memory of the summer she'd spent in Ron's bed. Things hadn't worked out but that was ok. She'd still had a good time.

"What makes you think that Ron took my virginity?" Hermione asked in response, raising her eyebrows at the Indian girl seriously, unable to hide her smirk.

Seamus dropped his glass in shock as every head turned in her direction.

"You telling us you've shagged someone other than Weasley?" Theo wanted to know, looking to be one of the few who was still somewhat sober. Hermione wondered how often he must hit the liquor to still be so unaffected by the drink.

"I'm just wondering why anyone would assume that I waited for Ron to pop my cherry," Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"Haven't you been in love with Ron since, like, third year?" Parvati asked her, one of the few in the group that was privy to the girl chats that had taken place in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory late at night.

"I admit I fancied him a good long while before I shagged him," Hermione replied, "But that by no means indicates that I waited for him to realise I was alive, let alone female, before gaining carnal knowledge."

"Oh my Merlin!" Daphne exclaimed, a wicked smirk of her own crawling across her face, "Do tell us then Granger, who popped your cherry?"

"Now why would I share that?" Hermione wanted to know, smirking wickedly in return and unable to hide her pleasure at their reactions.

"Was it Harry?" Neville wanted to know, frowning a little, "I'd have kept it a secret if it was Harry. Imagine what that would do to Harry and Ron's friendship."

"It wasn't Harry," Hermione assured him.

"Then who?" Pansy asked, her brow furrowing a little, "I mean, the only other bloke I've seen you with is Krum at the Yule Ball in fourth year…"

"OH MY GOSH!" Parvati shouted, her eyes bugging out of her head, "Hermione you shagged Krum?"

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous. I was far too young when I met Viktor."

"And yet you call him Viktor, instead of Krum," Theo pointed out, eyeing her speculatively, sipping his drink quietly and eyeing her over the rim.

"This might be a shock for your, Theodore, but I often refer to friends and even acquaintances by their first names," Hermione told him.

"Well, I've never seen you with any other guys," Parvati said, "So either it was someone from outside of Hogwarts or you're lying."

"I have more acquaintances than Harry, Ron and Viktor Krum, you know?" Hermione asked, "How do you know it wasn't someone in this very room?"

They all paused for a moment, glancing at each other speculatively again.

"Malfoy, you've been awfully quiet," Pansy said suddenly narrowing her eyes. Before Malfoy could even begin to look affronted and horrified by the accusation of possibly shagging her, Hermione threw her head back and began to laugh heartily at the very idea of ever shagging the blonde boy.

"I think her reaction is enough to suggest it wasn't Malfoy," Neville said, when Hermione began to howl with laughter, pounding her fists on the table.

"Oi," Malfoy grumbled, "There's no need to get hysterical, Granger."

"Are you claiming you were the one who shagged her first, Draco?" Daphne asked, sounding positively gleeful.

"It… wasn't…. Malfoy," Hermione choked, chortling still over the very idea.

"You realise that as the only one who drank to having shagged a redhead is you, right Granger?" Malfoy drawled in response, "Meaning that you're about to be subject to my Truth or Dare?"

"Go on then," she said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes before she met his mildly irritated gaze across the table, "Ask me."

"For truth you have to tell us who popped your cherry," he replied, smirking evilly.

"Dare me, then," she replied, returning the smirk.

"I dare you to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake. Right now. In front of all of us," he told her triumphantly and Hermione felt her stomach flip at the very idea. She pondered the idea for a moment. Should she admit that she had, in fact, slept with Viktor when she had visited him during the Christmas Holidays in fifth year? Should she admit that in her fury over Ron's obliviousness to her existence as a member of the female gender, she'd repeated the offense with her muggle next-door neighbours in Salisbury during her sixth year?

Or could she be brave and strip in front of everyone before taking a refreshing dip in the lake. The alcohol had warmed her insides sufficiently enough that she wasn't overly fearful nor worried about the cold of the water. She also didn't really care at that point if they all saw her bum. They would all be too drunk to remember.

"Fine," she shrugged, getting to her feet and trying to ignore the way it made her head spin a little, "If you can all keep up with me you might be lucky enough to see me naked."

With that she dashed out of the common room and away through the castle, she could hear the sounds of cheering and laughter following in her wake as the rest of the students whole could still walk or stumble came after her.

"The dare is that you have to do it in front of everyone, Granger!" Malfoy shouted when the group of them spilled out on the grounds while Hermione raced – rather well for someone so intoxicated – across the rolling grounds of the castle towards the lips of the black lake. Hermione laughed almost gleefully when she beat them all to the edge. She dropped her cloak before pulling her jumper and her shirt off over her head in one smooth movement. She'd abandoned her tie and her shoes back in the common room as the drink loosened her tongue and her inhibitions.

Hermione heard catcalls from behind her as she unhooked her bra and dropped in it a pile along with the rest of her clothes. She hooked her thumbs under the waist band of her skirt and her knickers before flicking them off her hips and feeling the delicious naughtiness of the fabric slithering down her legs, leaving her body bare. The last thing to go was her wand, which she added to the pile before she stood there for a moment in the rare beam of moonlight. She turned slowly towards the group gathering on the bank around her and she met Draco Malfoy's gaze challengingly, holding her arms out to her sides and smiling wickedly.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

Draco felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her bare, creamy flesh beneath the moonlight as she met his gaze. The others around him were catcalling and cheering her bravery as she completed her dare. Draco could barely believe his eyes. He kept a smug expression on his face as she held her hands out, her hair blowing in the slight evening breeze, inviting them all to witness her nudity before she spun, took a running leap and dived off the docks of the lake into the water. She broke the surface smoothly, diving long and shallow beneath the water before surfacing a few meters out from the end of the dock.

"Hey Seamus," she shouted, treading water easily, her usually curly hair laying slick against her neck.

"Yeah?" the drunken Irishman shouted and Draco glanced at the git.

"I dare you to join me," she shouted back, grinning challengingly.

"You think I won't?" Finnigan shouted back in return, grinning.

"I think you're too chicken," Granger told him, "I think you're all too chicken to skinny dip in the Black Lake at night."

"You're on, Granger," Finnigan shouted in response, pulling his shirt off over his head to the sound of more cheers. Dean Thomas followed suit, the drunken boys from Gryffindor entirely too easy to goad into action.

"Parvati, why don't you and Padma join us too?" Granger shouted, floating on her back and seeming not to care in the slightest that her pert breasts were revealed to everyone's gaze through the moonlight night.

"I don't know..." Padma objected, glancing worriedly at her twin. Draco could tell them apart only by uniform and by the fact that Parvati began disrobing as well.

"Don't be a wuss," she chided her sister, pulling her clothes off to the shouts from Finnigan and Thomas about the temperature of the water.

"Of course, we all know that the snakes will be too scared to join us," Granger called from the lake, having paddled closer to be heard over the sound of the water fight Finnigan and Thomas had begun having.

"She's right," Parvati Patil challenged them, "Everyone knows Slytherins are all bark and no bite."

"Yeah," Longbottom piped up, also disrobing now, "You lot coming in, or does it offend your sensibilities?"

"Ah, hell," Blaise drawled, entirely too drunk to be swimming. Draco closed his eyes momentarily in frustration when Blaise too pulled his shirt off and dropped it among the growing pile of clothing littering the lakeside.

"Oh, Blaise, don't," Daphne beggged, "What if the giant squid is about?"

"Oh come on, Greengrass," Granger taunted, "It's too shallow for the squid."

"She's probably right," Pansy mused, eyeing the amount of fun the Gryffindors were having in the water.

"Well, I'm going in," Justin Finch-Fletchely announced.

"I get the feeling we're being outnumbered," Theo sighed, untucking his shirt slowly, just in time to watch Blaise's drunken black arse flash at them as he cannon-balled into the midst of the water-fighting Gryffindors, "And someone is going to have to rescue that idiot."

"This is your fault, Draco," Daphne whined, "You should've known better than to dare a Gryffindor to do anything. They're all barmy. Especially that one."

Draco watched the way she nodded towards Granger, who was now laughing and squealing, splashing water at Longbottom, who gave as good as he got.

"Come on," Pansy nudged his arm, she was in the process of unbuttoning her blouse, "Or you'll be the only one on the bank and you'll never live it down. Granger will hold it over you forever that you were too chicken to swim."

Sighing in annoyance, Draco watched all three returning Slytherin girls strip until they were naked. Tracy took Pansy's hand before they both took a running leap off the docks and into the splashing midst of drunken foolery.

"Well, what do you know?" Granger's voice called over the sound of the fun and the laughter as Draco began untucking his shirt before he pulled it off his head, "Even the snobbiest pureblood in all the school is going to lower his standards to swim with the riff-raff."

"You better shut it, Granger," he warned her, meeting her gaze where she had pulled herself far enough out of the water to rest her arms and her chin on the docks whilst catching her breath.

"Or you'll what, Malfoy?" she taunted, entirely undaunted and refusing to look away as he unbuckled his belt.

"Or I'm going to come over there and make you shut it," he informed her, unbuttoning his trousers and shoving them off his hips before he kicked his feet out of them.

She laughed at his threat and Draco narrowed his eyes on her before he copied so many of the others, running to the edge of the dock and cannon-balling from the end. She didn't even flinch as he leapt right over where she clung to the dock. Wearing nothing but the goblin-made silver pendant that hung about his neck as steadfastly as the one adorning Granger's throat, he crashed into the water and was immediately set upon by Greg, Blaise and Theo. Greg pulling him under the water and giving him a noogie.

He came up fighting for air, kicking his friend but laughing nonetheless, only to get a face full of water when Granger appeared out of nowhere and began splashing him.

"Right," he growled, "That's it."

Making a wild grab for her, Draco snatched at her splashing hands, dragging her closer to the sound of her squealing before tucking her under his arm and pulling her under the water as Greg had done to him. She writhed in his grip, fighting desperately to get free, though he could tell from the way she laughed and began trying to tickle him that she was not only very drunk, but also clearly having a good time.

"Oi, Malfoy!" Longbottom growled, swimming towards him when Granger clawed at his arm to be let up. Before Longbottom could reach him, Granger popped back up, sucking in a gulp of air before launching herself right at Longbottom.

"Aw Neville," she cooed, wrapping her arm around his neck while the Gryffindor boy began to blush at the feel of Granger's naked body pressed against his side, "Look at you coming to my rescue against the big, bad Slytherins."

Draco laughed at her words, and at the way she planted a closed-lips kiss on Longbottom's mouth while he sputtered in shock.

"Blimey, Hermione!" he exclaimed, "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Why would you think that?" she asked without releasing him.

"You can't kiss me. Ron will blow a top!" Longbottom protested.

"Yeah, Hermione aren't you still seeing Ron?" Parvati asked, ceasing the splash she was aiming at Goyle to look at her curiously.

"Oh come on, you lot," Granger rolled her eyes, still hanging onto Longbottom's neck. Draco noticed the way the boy must not be a very strong swimmer or was simply too intoxicated, because he had to paddle them both towards the docks and cling to it to keep the slight muggle-born from pulling him under.

"You don't actually believe all that rot they write about me in the Prophet, do you?" she said, realising she was making it hard for Longbottom and letting him go.

"So you're not dating Ron?" Padma asked, "You admitted to shagging him."

"I was dating him," Granger shrugged, "But now I'm not."

"WHAT?" Parvati squealed, always ready to gossip, "When did that happen? You've been in love with him for years. Why would you break up with him?"

"There's something to be said about wanting something you can't have," she shrugged, "With the war and everything else going on, there was simply never time to really be a couple. Once we were one, it was fun, but it was fleeting too. Like a good romance novel. You ache for the couple to be together, but then when they are the story loses some of it's intrigue."

"So you're not seeing Weasley?" Theo asked her, still treading water.

"Not anymore. We were together all summer, but we realised that it wouldn't last with me being here and him being in London. We called it quits and decided to just stay friends. He mentioned some girl he met in Auror training the other day he's got his eye on."

"And you're just okay with that?" Parvati asked, "Aren't you devastated?"

"I'm fine," Granger shrugged nonchalantly, "We had fun and we're still friends. Ending a relationship doesn't get much better than that."

"But I thought you two would be together forever. Like Ginny and Harry," Parvati protested.

"Actually Ginny and Harry called it quits too," Granger told her offhandedly, "For the same reasons. When you want something for so long and then finally get it, the high is there at first, but then the novelty wears off and you realise all the things that got on your nerves as their friend are ten times more annoying as their partner."

"So you and Ginny are both single?" Parvati queried and Draco noticed that everyone was riveted on the state of Granger's love life.

"That's right," she nodded, "So don't worry Neville, no one will be calling for you head over a little lip-lock."

"Well in that case," Blaise piped up, having swum closer to the naked brunette. Everyone laughed when he seized hold of Granger, one hand clinging to the dock and the other tangling into her hair before he pulled her into him a snogged her hard on the mouth.

Draco felt something dark and terrible roar to life inside him at the sight of her snogging the drunk idiot back. Parvati was cheering and laughing while Pansy, Daphne and Tracy looked on with amusement. Greg was chortling to himself and Draco found Theo watching him for his reaction. Refusing to give in to the rampaging beast that had just roared to life inside his chest, Draco adopted a disgusted expression.

"Always wanted to do that," Blaise panted smugly when he and Granger finally broke apart.

"Charming, Zabini," Granger rolled her eyes, swiping her hand over her mouth and looking mildly sickened. Draco had never been on the receiving end of one of Blaise's snogs, but Daphne had informed them all that he happened to be gifted at it in the strangest of ways.

"Anytime, love," Balise winked sloppily at her before he lost his grip on the dock and dipped under the water.

Granger rolled her eyes again, laughing at him when he sputtered as he came back up for air.

"I still want to know who popped your cherry, Granger," Daphne piped up, drawing the attention of them all where she floated on her back far out in the water.

"Why don't you tell us you popped yours, Greengrass?" Granger suggested, paddling away from the docks and from Blaise before the git could grope her.

"Theo was my first," Daphne admitted without hesitation and Draco glanced at his friend, raising his eyebrows. Theo returned the expression with a small smirk.

"Theo was my first too," Tracy told them in a reedy voice, she was floating alongside Daphne, entirely unconcerned by her nudity. Not that she'd ever cared much about keeping such things private.

"Tell me it was a threesome," Padma grinned wickedly.

"No," Daphne shrugged, "My first threesome was with Blaise and Pansy."

"Blimey," Longbottom muttered, his eyes widening.

"You know, Longbottom," Tracy said, looking in his direction for his outburst, "We could amend that virginal status for you, if you wanted?"

Longbottom went beet red and Draco began to chuckle, his eyes tracking Granger as she dog-paddled between people, clearly heading for less crowded waters.

"What's the matter Longbottom?" Theo taunted quietly when the poor sap didn't respond because his mouth was gaping open like that of a fish. "Don't you think Tracy's pretty?"

"That's not what I... I mean, I... oh Merlin," Longbottom sputtered and everyone laughed.

"You know, Theodore, I do believe we were up to you with the, I nevers and Truth and Dare," Granger mused, still dog paddling though she was now in more open water and appeared to be enjoying seeing how big a splash she could make when kicking her legs.

"Right," Theo said, smirking at the smooth distraction from Longbottom's humilation. "I've never snogged anyone of the same sex."

"Really?" Pansy asked him, looking surprised. "I could totally see you snogging another bloke."

"Gee, thanks, Pans," Theo drawled at her. "I actually have, of course, I just wanted to know who else had."

"Well, I've obviously done it," Daphne said. Tracy, Pansy and Padma all agreed that they had as well.

"What about you, Granger?" Draco asked the girl. "You and Weaslette ever tangle tongues?"

"Nope," she replied. "Although I was dared to kiss a girl at a muggle party I went to in my sixth year. She wasn't game enough."

"And you would've been?" Seamus asked her, sounding surprised.

"Who else is learning there's way more to Hermione Granger than they ever realised?" Pansy asked, eyeing Granger speculatively.

"Don't seem so surprised," Granger waved her hand dismissively, "It's not as though any of you were ignorant of my thirst for knowledge. It was simply your mistake to assume that applied only to academia."

"Just what have you done, Granger?" Theo wanted to know, eyeing her speculatively.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Theodore," she smirked at him.

"I would," Dean said. "I'd like to know."

"Me too," Longbottom piped up and Granger began to laugh.

"I'm not giving you a list, boys."

"Spoil sport," Blaise accused drunkenly, having managed to haul himself out of the water to be sitting - still naked - on the edge of the docks with his feet dangling in the water.

"Oh for crying out loud, Blaise, put your cock away would you?" Pansy interrupted, "Before you hit someone with it by accident."

"Come here and I'll hit your with it," Blaise leered at her while Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Right then," Theo said, laughing, "No one else has snogged someone of the same gender other than Daph, Pans, Tracy and… whichever Patil twin you are."

He pointed at Padma.

"That's Padma," Parvati told him, laughing at Padma's affronted expression.

Everyone shook their heads at the question and Theo smirked wickedly.

"Well then, we'd best amend that. Girls, truth of dare?"

"Since it's obvious where you're going to go with the dare, why don't you give us the truth question and we'll decide?" Daphne asked.

"Alright then. If you pick truth, you have to describe, in detail, your darkest sexual fantasy," Theo smirked.

"Oooh," Daphne grinned, "And let me guess, if we all pick dare you'll be daring us to kiss the other girls in the group who've yet to do so?"

"You bet your arse, I will," Theo drawled.

"How droll," Tracy sighed, "Well then Theodore, if you must know, my darkest fantasy involves whips and chains. I'd like someone to tie me to something and have their wicked way with me."

"I didn't know you were interested in the sub and Dom culture, Tracy?" Daphne asked, looking at her best friend curiously.

"It's a recent interest," Tracy replied. "It's seems I'm something of a masochist and wouldn't mind - with the right person - exploring that further."

"You need my help?" Theo offered immediately and Draco snorted.

"Thank you, Theo, but no. I don't think you'd take full control away from me and that's what I want. No choice but to completely submit to the whims and will of my partner. You worry too much about pleasing a woman to hurt me," Tracy informed him.

"Well, it's hardly my fault I want you to have a good time too," Theo shrugged, not at all concerned by her refusal and Draco chuckled at the gobsmacked expressions the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff in the group were wearing and the critical eye with which the few Ravenclaw's were examining the situation.

"I think I'll take dare," Padma admitted, clearly unwilling to admit to her own dark desires and Draco realised it was a trend with the Indian girl to keep her secrets close to her chest. More than anyone but Blaise she had been choosing dare instead of truth.

"Fantastic," Theo purred, "I dare you to snog Abbott."

The little Hufflepuff looked alarmed for a moment as Padma shrugged and paddled towards her. Draco watched on feeling mildly bored by the display as the Indian girl snogged Hannah thoroughly in the shallows where Hannah had retreated to sit.

"Oi, save something for the rest of us, would you?" Blaise called when both girls continued lazily snogging, their hands tangling in each other's loose long hair. Draco laughed again when they both ignored Blaise and kept snogging.

"Right, anyway," Theo drew the attention away from the snogging pair. "Your turn Daphne. What's it going to be, spill your darkest fantasies or snog another girl?"

"Since I've already refused to share my darkest desires once when I wouldn't tell you who they're about, I suppose I have no choice to subject myself to your whims of having me snog someone," Daphne sighed, levelling him a quelling look.

"Excellent," Theo purred wickedly, entirely too thrilled. "I'm sure Granger will be more than happy to oblige."

"Is this going to be some kind of game for the night?" Granger asked, sounding amused. "See how many Slytherins can snog Hermione?"

"You brought it on yourself," Greg told her, smirking. "You defended us when – out of everyone at the feast – you had the most right to hate the whole lot of us. Tonight you're an honorary Slytherin."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," Granger admitted, raising her eyebrows in surprise when none of them objected to the idea. Draco found himself nodding along to the idea. After the way she'd spoken out for them, he supposed she could be an honorary Slytherin. For the night, at least.

"Just grin and bear it," Theo advised. "And snog Daph."

Granger laughed, paddling closer to make it easier to snog the blonde girl. She didn't object or even look overly concerned by the notion of kissing another girl for the first time. Draco narrowed his eyes on her as she glanced at him when she paddled past him, her eyes flickering between his own grey pair and the pendant that matched hers where it hung around his neck.

"I've never snogged a blonde before," she admitted as though to taunt him as she swam just beyond him to meet Daphne.

"It somehow pleases me that I'm popping two of your cherries at once. First girl and first blonde," Daphne smiled wickedly and Draco narrowed his eyes at her when she glanced at him over Granger's slim shoulder as she leaned towards the brunette. A little laugh escaped the muggle-born witch before Daphne snogged her, tangling her fingers into Granger's hair and kissing her hungrily.

"Is anyone else turned on by all this girl on girl?" Dean asked, leaning against one of the dock posts.

"I am," Justin admitted.

"Me too," Neville tossed in, and Draco hated himself a little for the way the monster inside his chest was gnashing it's teeth against the urge to tear the mudblood away from Daphne so he could snog her himself. His friends had no real concept of what it was his fascination with the little swot was really about. They didn't know the meaning of the matching chains that hung around their necks. They didn't know about the complicated magic he'd had to wield to imbue them with enough protective charms and curses to have any effect on the Cruciatus curse. A weight settled around his neck, threatening to pull him under the water, just as it had when Blaise had snogged her and Draco kicked a little harder to stay above water while he tried to control his sense of possessiveness and jealousy.

"Hell, yes," Blaise cheered from the docks.

"Perverts, the lot of you," Daphne scolded them when she and Granger finally broke apart. "Thank you, Hermione."

"You too," Granger responded, paddling back a little bit from the girl in a way that made Draco think she hadn't much enjoyed snogging Daphne either.

"Oh hush up, Daph," Blaise told her. "You love it when we perve on you."

"Does anyone else suddenly realise that the Slytherins are way more open with each other than we ever imagined?" Parvati asked as she paddled around Seamus.

"Didn't you know that?" Pansy asked.

"Honestly I thought you were all a bunch of prudes, too pompous to shag anyone," Parvati admitted, giggling, "Who'd have known you've all shagged each other?"

"Not all of us," Draco responded, wrinkling his nose.

"Why is it that I'm unsurprised that you haven't shagged everyone?" Granger asked him and Draco slanted a glance at her.

"Thinks he's too good for the rest of us," Blaise piped up, making a face at Draco from the dock.

"I only meant I'm not into blokes, before all this same-sex snogging gets out of hand," Draco protested when all three Slytherin girls glared at him hotly even though he'd shagged all of them in the past.

"You realise now that I'm going to dare you to snog Theodore, right?" Granger asked him, slanting a glance at him in return.

"He won't do it," Theo told her before Draco could answer.

"You say that as though you've tried?" Granger smirked.

"I have," Theo admitted. "I've got a blonde kink. Don't much care what genitalia the blonde has."

"And so very few people have as fine, pale blonde hair as Draco Malfoy," Daphne purred from where she'd swum over to Theo and wrapped herself around his back. She was kissing his neck sporadically and Theo was trying to pretend he didn't want to shag the devious little blonde.

"Will you lot let it go?" Draco rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to snog Theo for anything. Not for money, not for fear of pain and sure as hell not on the taunting of his friends.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Granger smirked at him. "You chicken?"

"What did I say about your shutting it Granger?" he asked her evilly, smirking in return. "Do you want me to find something to keep your mouth occupied? Because I will."

Her cheeks turned pink at the insinuation.

"Ooooh," Parvati piped up and Draco narrowed his eyes when the rest of the idiots did it too, somehow amping up the sexual tension between him and Granger tenfold.

"Should've known you were too chicken," Granger told him. "Now I do believe we're still waiting on Pansy's darkest desires."

"Don't even think about trying to get me to snog someone, Theo," Pansy said immediately. "If you must know my darkest fantasy involves being filled to capacity."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Granger asked, leaning around Draco a little to stare at the pug-nosed witch.

"Yes, Granger. I'm saying my darkest fantasies include being gang-banged in every hole all at once."

"Bloody hell," Finnigan exclaimed at her delicate announcement.

"You let me know when you're ready, babe," Blaise called from the docks. "I got something for you, right here."

He crudely gripped his crotch and Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Hell, I'd get on board with that," Theo agreed. "I call your mouth."

"What makes you think I want any of the three to be either of you?" Pansy demanded. "Don't you think, if that were the case, I'd have asked you both?"

"In that scenario, I would not be the third," Draco informed her, glancing at her seriously. He'd washed his hands of shagging Parkinson in sixth year and he wouldn't go there again for anything.

"Kill joy," she accused him, narrowing her eyes at him.

"So if not Blaise or Theo," Granger mused, "And based on the other things you've said tonight…. I'm going to guess… Dean, Draco and… Ron."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a know-it-all?" Pansy asked her, crossing her arms self-consciously.

"Of course," Granger grinned, "If it helps any, I know Ron could rock your world."

"Is this what's to become of us?" Tracy asked, "We're all going to gossip about who's got the biggest dick?"

"Blaise does," Daphne and Pansy said simultaneously and Blaise let out a woop.

"Not the biggest I've seen," Granger said when she squinted in Blaise's direction.

"Merlin, Hermione!" Neville exclaimed.

"What?" she asked innocently when Blaise glared at her.

"You saying you've seen bigger that this," Blaise demanded of her, pointing to his cock.

"Yes," Granger told him, grinning deviously.

"Oh, now I have to ask," Parvati said, "Hermione, how many people have you shagged?"

"Are you calling me a trollop, Parvati?" Granger asked though she looked amused rather than offended.

"Not at all, just asking for your number? I'd actually like to know everyone's number."

"What's yours then, Patil?" Draco asked, noticing that Granger was drifting towards him slowly.

"Six," she admitted honestly.

"Really?" Granger asked, looking surprised, "Who?"

"I knew I was beating you," Padma cheered triumphantly before Parvati could answer, "I've shagged seven."

"Tart," Parvati accused her sister.

"Skank," Padma shot back at the girl. She was still sitting in the shallows with Hannah and Draco got the feeling from the way Hannah Abbott was resting her head on Padma's shoulder and the way she was wearing a strange expression, that they might still be feeling each other up.

"Not the point," Parvati said, "Let's hear everyone's numbers, shall we?"

"I don't want to embarrass all of you," Blaise drawled, "But my number is currently at twenty three."

"You're such a rake," Daphne accused him, still snuggling against Theo's neck.

"Well my number is zero," Longbottom admitted, looking embarrassed.

"I can change that, you know?" Tracy offered again, having swum closer to him. Close enough to touch.

"Erm…"

"I'm at five so far," Seamus admitted.

"One," Dean shrugged.

"Ginny, right?" Granger asked Dean.

The muggleborn nodded unrepentantly.

"She told me all about it," Hermione smirked, "So, Pansy I can tell you that you'd have your socks knocked off with two out of three of your fantasy trio. Not sure about the third."

"Care to find out, Granger?" Draco challenge her quietly when the others were too busy chortling. She rolled her eyes at him in return.

"Well my number is five," Pansy admitted, still giggling a little.

"Eight," Daphne admitted haughtily, "And I'll never tell you who."

"Two," Greg threw in his own count.

"Theo?"

"What? No, I didn't shag Theo," Greg said, looking disgusted and Draco snorted.

"I was asking for Theo's number, Goyle," Parvati laughed, "But that's good to know. I think the mental image of the two of you shagging might've scarred me for life."

"My current number is thirty two," Theo informed them primly.

"You're even more of a rake than Blaise!" Daphne accused, "Who were they all?"

"Well, you see, I get extra points because of that orgy I had," he replied, kissing her cheek sneakily.

"You actually had an orgy?" Parvati asked, looking intrigued now.

"Twelve people," Theo nodded.

"And you fucked all of them?" Daphne wanted to know.

"They were all blonde," Theo shrugged.

"I bet they weren't all female," Pansy said slyly.

"They weren't," Theo confirmed, not at all ashamed.

"You've shagged a bloke?" Seamus asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust over the idea.

"You ever tried anal with a chick, Finnigan?" Theo asked him coolly.

"Well, yeah once," Finnigan admitted.

"It's the same," Theo shrugged, "When they're on their hands and knees in front of you, it feels the same. If they hang their head, you can't even tell the difference."

"Is anyone else aroused?" Tracy asked mildly, eyeing Theo speculatively.

"I should've known you were kinky for a bit of guy-on-guy Tracy," Theo smirked at her.

"I admit, I'm intrigued," she replied.

"How are you lot this open about sex?" Dean wanted to know, standing with his arms crossed and looking on curiously.

"We've all shagged each other," Tracy told him, "When you shag someone you tend to not be as awkward about discussing shagging with them."

"You've shagged every Slytherin guy here?" Dean asked her, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. Vincent too," she admitted, "And a few of the Seventh year boys from when we were sixth years. I don't see the big deal. Sex is fun. Why shouldn't we do it, and why shouldn't we talk about it?"

"Makes you a whore," Dean shrugged, "I don't imagine you loved any of them."

"I didn't," she confirmed, "Love and sex are far removed, Dean Thomas."

"I thought you girls would have to be chaste and virginal," Granger piped up from next to him, "Aren't you all supposed to be dutiful blushing brides when your marriages are arranged?"

"Oh Granger," Theo shook his head sadly, eyeing her pityingly.

"What? It's a fair question. Everything within the wizarding world, and especially pureblood lore, suggests such."

"It used to be that way," Tracy nodded, "But the fact is that as long as we're discreet, no one stops us. Whoever I end up married too will actually be grateful I'm not a virgin because then he won't have to be so gentle and careful with me."

"Not all of our marriages are arranged anymore, either," Pansy told her, "Most families will… encourage certain matches, but it's not quite that backward anymore that they force us into it."

"Oh," Granger said, nibbling her lower lip thoughtfully. Draco watched her do it with the strangest urge to nibble it too. He hated himself for the dark fantasies he entertained featuring the bossy little muggle-born.

"What's your count these days, Draco?" Theo asked him, returning to the task at hand.

"Nine," he replied.

"Care to make it ten?" Theo offered, smirking.

"I'm good, thanks mate," he dismissed the notion just as easily.

"I'm going to talk you into it one day," Theo assured him.

"Not likely," Draco shook his head, "I'm not a fan of anal and if you think I'm going to let you put your dick anywhere near my arse, you're barmy."

"You don't like anal?" Theo asked him, sounding shocked.

"Nah," Draco shook his head. "Too messy."

"You lot are wigging me the hell out," Neville announced, looking horrified by the way they all hit on each other and discussed sexual preferences and positions so casually.

"I didn't like anal either," Granger threw in before anyone could respond to Longbottom's assertion and Draco glanced at her in surprise to hear her admitting to trying it.

"Right, now I'm curious," Theo admitted. "What's your number Granger?"

"Three," she admitted.

"Bloody hell," Neville said, "No offense Hermione, but I always imagined you as a waiting for marriage kind of girl."

"I thought you were a stick in the mud who would never get out of missionary position when you finally started shagging," Pansy told her.

"Guess I'm full of surprises," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"You going to tell us who they were?" Parvati wanted to know, "Were the other two both before Ron, or has there been one after?"

"Both before," she replied, "Once in fifth year and someone else in sixth."

"Right, who's shagged Granger?" Blaise wanted to know, "It has to have been one of you cunts."

Draco glanced around the group. It hadn't been him. Not yet. But the rest of them were all shaking their heads that it hadn't been them either.

"You'll never guess who they were," she waved her hand, "Don't bother guessing."

"One was obviously Weasley," Draco narrowed his eyes, "And I reckon you lied about Krum."

"I said fifth and sixth year. Not fourth," she contradicted him.

"Doesn't mean you didn't see Krum in fifth year. I remember Weasel getting his wand in a knot about you being in correspondence with Krum that year," Draco pointed out.

"Well, aren't you nosy," she told him.

"You're covering it up because he's a teacher now," Draco accused her.

"Don't you think that if I'd slept with Viktor, I'd have been bragging about bedding a famous Seeker?" she asked.

"No," Draco shook his head. "I don't think you'd tell anyone. You're too private."

"Is anyone else getting turned on watching them fight?" Daphne asked quietly of the rest of the group as Draco continued his conversation with Granger.

"I'll bet you ten Galleons they shag before the end of term," Theo told her.

"I'd put money on it happening by the end of the week," Greg grunted.

"You think you have any idea about what I would or wouldn't do?" she asked him and Draco smirked knowingly.

"I don't hear you denying it Granger. You shagged Krum in fifth year and lost your cherry to him. And there was someone else between him and Weasley. Probably when you had your knickers in a twist about Weasley dating Brown. Who was it?"

"That one you'll never guess," Granger smirked at him, speaking softly enough that none of the others would hear her confirm that she'd shagged Krum.

"Oi, Pans, you want to go to bed?" Blaise called out before Draco could reply to Granger.

"Not with you, Blaise," she told him, "But I am getting cold. I wouldn't mind a warm shower."

Draco smirked at Blaise who looked entirely too thrilled with the idea.

"I could use some time in bed," Daphne agreed, "Although a shower could be nice. You coming, Theo?"

"How can they be this causal about shagging one another?" Seamus asked, sounding baffled.

"I could show you," Parvati told him.

"Ye hitting on me, darlin'?" the Irishman asked, looking at the little Indian girl hotly.

"Maybe," she flirted.

"I'm going to bed," Greg mumbled, and Draco watched the way he moved towards Millicent, who'd been silent for most of the evening but for grunting the occasional answer to a question. She was suffering a head cold, but Draco suspected that wasn't going to stop Greg from shagging her again. Ever since Vince had died, Milli and Greg had been shagging hard, trying to forget how much they missed the idiot.

"So, what's it going to be, Longbottom?" Tracy asked of Neville seriously, and Draco smirked in their direction when Longbottom tripped over his tongue. Before he could sort himself out enough to manage a whole sentence, Tracy struck like a snake, planting her lips on his and snogging him hard. She used her grip on him to affix him to her until she was good and done kissing him. Draco knew the stuttering and shocked Gryffindor was probably dealing with the feel of Tracy wrapping her legs around his waist the way she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. He stumbled a little in surprise until he almost hit one of the posts of the dock.

Draco could tell he'd made his decision when he turned them both until Tracy was pressed against the post. He wrinkled his nose at Granger when Tracy tipped her head back and gave a little moan that Draco knew meant she'd just been impaled on a hard cock. He knew because he'd heard her make it countless times last year whenever he drove into her.

"Blimey!" Justin muttered, though he had his arm around his girlfriend, Tessa Aldridge, a fellow Hufflepuff.

"On that note, let's all get out of here, shall we?" Pansy asked, and Draco watched the way she trailed her fingers against Dean Thomas's dark skin as she walked past him out of the water, revealing her sinuous, naked form inch by inch.

"You want to come?" she asked him and Draco wondered if the man realised that if he went with her, he'd end up with her in the shower with Blaise. Draco could tell from the look on her face that she was titillated by the idea of shagging both dark-skinned men at the same time. He watched Dean gulp audibly, turning to keep his gaze on Pansy and looking torn when she let Blaise throw an arm around her waist and held her hand out towards Dean, before he stumbled after her.

They all collected their clothes and their wands as they went, and Granger glanced at him sideways as she began swimming towards the shore, clearly meaning to follow the rest of them back to the common room. Draco couldn't say he blamed her when he heard the sound of muttered curses and intermittent moaning coming from under the dock as Tracy gave Neville Longbottom carnal knowledge. Draco forced himself to think about horrible things until his boner went away before he followed after her, refusing to let the delicious sight of her bare flesh give away his fascination with her.

"Is Dean about to have a threesome with Pansy and Blaise?" Granger asked him when she was standing at her pile of clothing, searching for her wand.

"Looks like it," Draco shrugged.

"Don't either of them care that Dean is muggle-born?" she asked, seeming confused now.

"Granger, the lot of us went to prison for that prejudice bullshit. None of us could care less about blood purity anymore," he told her, raising his eyebrows when she waved her wand and dried both of them before she began dressing herself. She waved it at Hannah and Padma as they both clambered out of the water too, holding hands intimately.

"Even you?" she asked, glancing up to meet his gaze while she fastened her bra as Draco buckled his trousers. She wiggled into her skirt while he watched her for a long moment.

"Even me, Granger," he nodded. "Especially me."

"I think I'll believe it when I see it," she said quietly, eyeing his strangely and Draco wondered if she was as drunk as he'd assumed her to be. She seemed quite level-headed as she buttoned her shirt and reached for her cloak, handing him his in the process.

"Fair enough," he nodded quietly, eyeing her in return and noticing that, unlike the Slytherin girls, she clearly hadn't been wearing make-up that washed off in the lake. He froze when she leaned closer and fished the pendant out the front of his shirt, holding it out so she could see it in the sporadic beams of moonlight.

"This matches the one you gave me," she told him seriously after examining the pendant for a few long moment in silence.

"I know," he admitted, nodding his head as he met her gaze again.

"Do I want to know why?" she asked him.

"Probably not," Draco replied evenly, staring into her upturned face and fighting the urge he had to fuck her right there in the grass.

"Does it have something to do with the fact that I can't get the bloody thing off?" she asked next and he nodded.

She searched his face for a long minute, silently examining his features. She must've picked something up from his expression that hinted at how badly she wasn't going to want to know why the pendants matched and why they wouldn't come off. She frowned after that.

"Shite!"


	6. Let's Get a Few Things Straight

Hermione was beginning to grow concerned when Malfoy walked along beside her as she slowly made her way back towards the castle – leaving Neville and Tracy in the lake. He stayed silent as he walked next to her and Hermione snuck a glance at him. She'd been beyond shocked by his behaviour since she'd jumped into the lake and she could honestly say she'd never expected to have playfully wrestled with him in the water or have traded non-venomous banter with him.

She was concerned by the fact that the necklace he wore was a slightly larger, more masculine seeming version of the one adorning her own neck.

"Do you want me to tell you?" he asked her finally as the crested the little hill and began climbing the stairs towards the castle.

"It's going to upset me, isn't it?" she asked him seriously.

"Yes," he admitted honestly and Hermione looked at him worriedly.

When they reached the top of the stairs, he seemed to notice that she was shivering because he suddenly threw his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side. Hermione stiffened in surprise at the very idea that she was snuggled up with Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron would pitch a fit if they could see her now. But in spite of knowing her friends would be horrified, Hermione found herself slipping her arm around his back beneath his cloak in return. She moved in closer until her hip bumped against his, cuddling close when she noticed how warm he was through his clothing.

"Don't tell me," she said finally. "At least, don't tell me right now. I don't think I want to know."

"I know you don't want to know. Merlin, I only know parts," he replied.

"This has been a strange evening," she said a little while later as the crossed the lawns towards the Entrance Hall.

"It's going to be a strange year," he agreed. "Though I imagine Dean is probably learning a new meaning of strange with Pansy and Blaise right now."

Hermione giggled at the idea.

"He'll probably wimp out when he finds himself trapped in a shower cubicle with Pansy, Blaise, and Zabini's serpent… then again, he was almost as well endowed…"

"Why do I get the feeling you're imagining being in Pansy's place right now?" he asked her, and Hermione tipped her head back a little to meet his gaze again.

"Because I was," she shrugged. "Though I don't imagine I'd enjoy being her right now."

"No?" Malfoy asked her, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, she's either taking at least one of them up her toosh or she's trying not to drown while they spit-roast her in the shower…. Neither of those things sound fun to me. Now, if it was in a bedroom, I could maybe get on board with the spit-roast idea."

"Who  _are_ you?" he asked, looking mildly shocked. "How have you hidden being a little minx until now?"

"I wasn't a minx until after the war ended," Hermione admitted, unsure why she was telling him.

"You shagged two blokes before the war ended," he disagreed. "We all thought you were a pencil-neck virgin."

"Yes, but before the war ended when I was shagging boys, it was pretty basic things. Not like what I've tried since then."

"The idea of you and Weasley doing depraved things to each other makes me feel ill," Malfoy informed her, looking disgusted at the very thought. Hermione noticed idly that his arm tightened around her minutely every time he mentioned the idea of her shagging anyone else.

She shrugged unrepentantly at him in response.

"The second bloke was a muggle, wasn't he?" Malfoy asked her suddenly.

Hermione glanced at him, shocked that he'd figured it out. No one ever paused to think about her being muggle-born anymore.

"My next-door neighbour. We used to be close as kids, what with growing up side-by-side, but when I came to Hogwarts we fell out of touch a bit. When I was furious with Ron about the Lavender thing, I went to a party that Brett invited me to one night while I was home at Easter. We got a bit tipsy and fell into bed together," Hermione admitted, recalling the awkwardness she'd felt when she woke up in his bed at his parent's house and had to climb out his window and over the side fence to her own yard to avoid being caught by his parents.

As children her parent's and Brett's had pushed them together, laughing over the idea of them being childhood sweethearts that would get married one day. She didn't want to lend them hope by catching her shagging Brett.

"So is it Krum or the muggle with the serpentine cock?" Malfoy asked her lasciviously.

"How do you know it's not Ron?" she challenged as the climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall and strolled inside.

"You're forgetting we used to share dressing sheds after Quidditch matches," Malfoy told her. "I've seen what the Weasel's got down his trousers and Blaise is bigger."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest him insulting Ron but before she could, a familiar Bulgarian accented voice interrupted them. She felt her eyes slide closed in horror as Viktor Krum stepped around the corner of the first floor corridor.

"Vat is going on here?" he demanded, his burly arms crossed over his chest and Hermione opened her eyes to stare at him guiltily.

"Just making use of our privileges as eighth year students," Malfoy answered in a sneer and Hermione felt his arm tighten around her further.

"Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor demanded and Hermione fought the urge to stomp on Malfoy foot for the way he snickered at the way Viktor pronounced her name.

"It's true, Viktor," she admitted honestly, "We've all been swimming in the Black Lake after a little too much exuberance."

"I know," Viktor narrowed his eyes at the way Malfoy kept his arm around her, "I saw all of you together."

"Just a bit of fun," Hermione offered him a small smile, releasing her hold on Malfoy and trying subtly to shake his arm off her shoulders, "Professor McGonagall told us we're all free to come and go as we please as long as we're causing no harm."

"May I speak with you privately, Herm-own-ninny?" he asked in a tight voice, his narrowed gaze flicking to Malfoy's arm still around her again.

"Actually,  _Professor_ ," Malfoy cut in. "We're on our way back to our common room. I'm sure that private discussions with students can be held during daylight hours."

Hermione stomped on his foot for his insinuation and his tone and Viktor looked ready to hex him. Malfoy ignored her, holding her even tighter and if Hermione didn't know any better she'd think he sounded possessive of her. His hold on her and his refusal to release her made her think so. It was clear by his stress of Viktor's new title that he didn't at all think the Bulgarian meant to scold her in his capacity as a teacher, but rather thought he would try seducing Hermione or something similar.

"He's probably right, Viktor," Hermione admitted, hating herself a little for saying it but knowing it was true. Viktor Krum possessed the ability to make her entirely too nervous and he'd talked her out of her knickers more than once in the past, "It might be considered inappropriate for the two of us to have a private chat this evening."

"You haff been drinking," he accused, his eyes narrowed on her now.

Hermione nodded. Sighing heavily, Hermione watched the way his jaw clenched, fighting what she didn't doubt would be angry words for her behaviour and dire warnings for Malfoy.

"If that will be all,  _Professor,"_  Malfoy drawled, still holding Hermione to his side, clearly unintimidated by the Bulgarian, "Hermione and I need to be getting back to our common room."

Hermione shivered at the way Malfoy pronounced her first name, being sure to rub it in that he could say it properly when Viktor couldn't quite get it. The sound of it rolling off Malfoy's tongue made her insides flip strangely.

"I'll speak with you tomorrow," Hermione promised Viktor, realising that even if she were to insist that she stay and chat with Krum rather than returning to the common room, Malfoy was going to make a fuss. Hermione wouldn't put it past the slick git to blab her secret about shagging Viktor to the other teachers – which would undoubtedly get him the sack. She knew he wasn't going to leave her alone with Krum for the evening either. She could tell he had no intention of releasing her and she wondered if the matching chains they wore had anything to do with his reaction to running into Viktor.

Viktor let them pass in silence, though Hermione could see the fury glittering in his dark eyes as he did so. Hermione let Malfoy steer her away from their newest teacher without saying another word on the matter until they were several corridors away. She had to resort to putting her arm around his waist once more to keep her balance as she walked with him and he gave a smug chuckle when she did so.

"That was rude," she told him seriously. "You didn't have to be rude to him, Malfoy."

"You'd have stayed and let him talk you into shagging him if I wasn't rude to him," Malfoy replied evenly. "You've been drinking. And if anyone's going to take advantage of you for it, it's going to be me."

Hermione stumbled in shock at his words.

"Have you lost your mind?" she asked him as they entered the common room once more where someone had taken pity on Ernie and taken him to bed.

"No," he replied, glancing down at her without elaborating.

"You just said you want to take advantage of me," Hermione pointed out.

"I know."

"You're saying you want to…?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows climbing towards her hairline while her stomach fluttered uncomfortably.

"Enact all my darkest fantasies with you. You may recall you dared me to do so," he answered smugly and Hermione tripped over her own feet.

"That question when you…. You were talking about me?" she asked.

"Aren't you glad I declined to enact them in front of everyone?" Malfoy asked her, refusing to let her go as they crossed the common room. Hermione noticed idly that the rooms had been organised to spread them out, ensuring no two people from the same house were rooming side by side. Hermione's own door was located to the left of Malfoy's and on her right was Susan's.

"I am, actually," Hermione admitted, trying to swallow against her suddenly parched throat.

"It's just as well," Malfoy continued, "Since I didn't fancy the idea of them all trying to crowd into the bathroom with us."

"You fantasise about shagging me in the shower?" Hermione heard herself blurt in shock.

"Sometimes," Malfoy smirked at her, "Are you going to open the door or not? I'm not letting go of you yet."

"So you're going to invite yourself into my room?" Hermione frowned.

"You're right," he clucked his tongue looking thoughtful for a moment. "Let's go to mine."

Steering her away from her door, Malfoy led her over to his own, unlocking it with his wand before tugging her inside. Hermione thanked Merlin that the common room was deserted as he pulled her deeper into the room before closing the door behind her.

"I'm not going to shag you, Malfoy," she informed him.

"You dared me to enact my fantasies, Granger," he pointed out, "Aren't you even a little curious about what kinds of things I fantasize about doing to you?"

Hermione  _was_  curious. And she hated herself a little bit for it. She'd never considered Malfoy in any way that was sexual before. Oh she'd noticed that he was disgustingly handsome, but she'd never dared let her mind wander in the direction of thinking of him sexually. She'd never considered the idea that he could stop being a foul, evil git long enough to even say something polite to her, let alone flattering.

He released her long enough to strip himself of his cloak, tossing it towards his desk chair before he turned back to her. Hermione stared at him wide eyed and trying to think of a way to rationalise being in his room with him when she knew she never should be. Harry and Ron! Harry and Ron would murder her if they found out she had allowed him to get her alone. If they knew about the suggestive things he'd been saying they'd blow a top, the pair of them.

Before she could think of a way to excuse herself now that she'd recalled the reasons her friends would blow their lids – like the fact that Malfoy had been a Death Eater and would most likely try something with her – he struck. His hand curled possessively around her jaw, holding her still as he pressed a hot kiss to her lips.

For the third time that evening, Hermione Granger found herself snogging a Slytherin, but for the first time that evening, she was enjoying it. His mouth tasted like whiskey and his lips were like velvet against her own. The feel of his tongue pressing against hers lightly, askingly, before sweeping in and tangling deliciously drew a moan from Hermione and she wasn't even ashamed. She found her hands tangling into his damp blond hair, noticing how soft and fine the strands were.

His answering smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as she snogged him back and Hermione whimpered when she found herself pressed back against the door to his bedroom. He pressed himself against the length of her, his warmth and strength surrounding her completely and engulfing her with passionate heat. Hermione could feel the steel length inside his trousers pressing against her stomach and she hated herself a little for the way she felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to swarm as she recalled the way he'd looked as he stripped on the docks in the moonlight.

She hated herself for wanting him, realising suddenly that she craved the feeling that came with sex. She and Ron had called things off only a few weeks before, but suddenly Hermione felt like she'd been celibate for a lifetime and she wanted to amend that. She knew too that doing so with Malfoy right then, might be the biggest mistake she could ever make. She might've defended his actions at the Feast when Seamus and Dean had argued against him being allowed to return to Hogwarts, but they'd had a point.

Draco Malfoy had committed crimes. He'd tried to murder someone and nearly killed three others in the process. He'd spent much of his life up until now being horrible to her. And Hermione knew that were it not for the liquor and its effects she wouldn't be snogging him. When he peeled her outer cloak from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor, Hermione knew she should stop him. No matter how good he might be at snogging her senseless, tomorrow would bring a hangover and regrets and Hermione wasn't ready to add Draco Malfoy to her list of regrets.

"I'm not sleeping with you," she panted when they broke apart, pressing her hands against his chest to hold him back from her.

"I know," he replied in just as ragged a voice, panting as well.

"We'll both regret it tomorrow," Hermione continued, shocked by his immediate agreement.

"I know," he repeated.

Hermione frowned at him, confused by the fact that he wasn't pushing her or taking advantage of her wavering indecision on the matter to get laid. As she stared at his face, trying to work him out, Hermione noticed that somehow while they'd been snogging their necklaces had become tangled.

"Tell me about these," Hermione commanded of him when he straightened a little until he was leaning one hand against the door behind her and running the other through his mussed hair.

"You sure you want to know, Granger?" he asked her and Hermione shivered at the husky tone in his voice. She tried desperately to ignore the tingling ache between her legs that insisted she ought to let him ravish her senseless.

"I think I need to," Hermione nodded, though she wasn't at all sure she wanted to know, "I worked out on my own that you obviously must have infused them with some kind of protective magic that made the Cruciatus curse less effective. It still hurt like all get out, but I didn't lose my mind or blurt out Harry's secrets. Why don't they come off?"

Malfoy sighed, tipping his head back as Hermione wiggled her fingers, trying to untangle her necklace from his.

"I imbued them with all manner of protective spells and charms. Even invented a few of my own. Unfortunately, they were some of the few items I could get my hands on that could be worn every day without drawing attention or seeming odd…. Mother was the one who gave them to me when I whispered to her what I wanted," he explained quietly as Hermione finally managed to untangle the pendants.

When she had, she jumped at the feel of his hands returning to her clothing.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he pulled on the hem of her jumper and her shirt until both were peeled from her, leaving her in only her skirt, her bra and her knickers.

"You can't sleep in those," he said distractedly as he dropped the stolen garments on the floor before he began fiddling with her skirt until he dropped it too. Hermione shivered at the feel of the fabric slithering down her legs to pool about her feet.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" she asked, completely confused now, "I'm not sleeping with you, remember?"

"You're not shagging me tonight," he corrected her as he finally stepped back from her before he crossed the room towards his trunk, pulling his own shirt off his head and dropping it on the floor. Hermione hated herself a little for allowing her eyes to rove his bare back, admiring the smooth, unblemished alabaster flesh. As he began digging in his trunk Hermione watched, mesmerized, as the sinewy muscle beneath his pale skin danced with his movements.

"You want me to sleep in your room?" Hermione asked, stepping out her skirt and across the room when he held out what looked like one of his old Quidditch jerseys.

"Do you sleep well these days?" he challenged, raising his eyebrows at her even as Hermione took the offered jumper, choosing to ignore for the time being that it was in Slytherin colours and that it bore his name across the front and back, and along both sleeves.

"Not alone," Hermione admitted, biting her lip and looking away.

"Neither do I," he murmured in response, unbuckling his trousers quickly before he dropped them to the floor. Hermione watched, morbidly fascinated, as he drew a pair of grey pyjama pants from his trunk and tugged them up his legs.

"So what does your Mother giving you the necklaces have anything to do with why I can't get the blasted thing off?" Hermione asked him, choosing to ignore the fact that they were obviously – for the evening at the very least – going to look past their history in favour of getting a decent night's sleep.

"They're a betrothal set," Malfoy sighed, dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed and putting his face in his hands. Hermione gasped in horror, her eyes widening as her knees buckled, causing her to drop down on the edge of the bed beside him.

"She didn't tell me, obviously believing I would know that by looking at them, and obviously not realising what I intended to use them for. As you can imagine the idea that I've given the other one to anyone without my parent's approval was something of a shock for them."

"Do they know I've got it?" Hermione asked in a hollow voice, realising suddenly that she was as good as bollocksed.

"They suspect. They might've been too preoccupied during the war to notice I'd given you that, but since then I don't doubt they've seen pictures of you in the Daily Prophet with it hanging around your neck," Draco sighed.

"But I've been…," she began slowly, frowning now.

"Shagging Weasley?" Malfoy asked sardonically, "Yes, I know. It's uncomfortable."

"You haven't been shagging anyone?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"No," he replied, "I've been in prison, remember? They don't exactly offer shagging privileges."

"Right," Hermione muttered, "But I… I thought that something like this effected… you know?"

"It does. Generally, in past times, they were given as a symbol of ownership over each other upon one's wedding day. Meaning that traditionally, I should've given that to whichever witch I were to marry. Since the expected consummation of that marriage would soon follow, the necklaces would work by binding the wearers together. Until we shag we can still shag other people without incidence, though the closer proximity we have to each other the more uncomfortable the other becomes when that happens."

"Meaning that when Blaise and Daphne snogged me in the lake you were uncomfortable?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows and studying him. He still had his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. Hermione noticed idly that he clearly didn't have any qualms about the idea of having her see him shirtless. Of course she'd seen him naked earlier, but that had been in the dark outside rather than the well-lit bedroom.

"They get heavy," Malfoy nodded, "I had to move to where I could touch the bottom in the water to keep from being pulled under."

"What happened to you when I was shagging Ron?" Hermione asked, feeling a twist of guilt suddenly.

"You don't want to know," he replied, voice slightly muffled as he scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Tell me," Hermione insisted.

In response he sat up slowly and turned towards her slightly. Hermione blinked when he lifted the pendant away from where it hung against his chest, revealing what looked like a brand in the shape of the pendant.

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped, reaching for the scar without thinking. Malfoy held his breath as she traced the shape of the pendant on his skin where it had grown so heavy and then begun to burn every time she'd shagged Ron throughout the summer.

"You had quite the summer," he commented dryly and Hermione felt her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

"Don't they come off?" Hermione asked, pulling her hand away and trying not to stare at the expanse of his bare chest. He had a long diagonal scar slashed across his flesh from where Harry had used the Sectumsempra curse on him in sixth year.

"No," Malfoy replied, "Wearing them is supposed to be a symbol of being wed, so they were designed not to come off. The only way you'll ever be able to remove that thing from your neck is if I die. When that happens both pendants are charmed to unclasp from the throats of the wearers and return to their case for safe-keeping until the next time they are used."

"But that means…" Hermione said slowly, feeling a pit of dread open up inside her stomach.

"That means you're chained to me. For the rest of our lives."

"Crap!" Hermione sighed, flopping backwards on his bed and staring at the canopy above.

This was bad. This was really bad. Chained to him. She was magically chained to Draco Malfoy and would be until the day she died.

"This is why you said you knew when I told you I wasn't going to shag you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," he agreed, lying on his back beside her and also staring up at the canopy over his bed, "Until you and I shag, the necklaces will grow heavy enough to burn if we see other people, but if we shag, that's it. Trying to see anyone else after that will be torturous for both of us. And I get the feeling that, given all the other charms I used on these before I knew what they were, the magic I used to protect against torture and pain from external sources will hurt tenfold when it's the necklace doing the cursing."

Hermione didn't reply. She was in shock. She was chained to Draco Malfoy, irrevocably, for the rest of her life. And there were really only two options. Avoid each other and deal with the excruciating pain she imagined must come along with seeking out the attentions of another, or be together.

In other words, she was bollocksed. She and Malfoy might've, under the influence of alcohol, shared a few laughs and a smashing snog. But they were by no means friends, lovers or anything else. She could barely stand him when she was sober. In fairness, she'd never tried, but that was beside the point.

"You realise we're doomed, don't you?" she asked him quietly sometime later after they'd lain together in silence. She noticed idly that he'd taken hold of the hand closest to him, his thumb stroking distractedly over the back of her hand.

"Yes," he admitted, "You and I are disagreeable, at best. Downright horrible and explosive at worst. The idea of the two of us being trapped together in this is horrifying."

He continued stroking the back of her palm as he spoke, as though he was oblivious to the words coming out of his mouth or simply didn't care how she might be effected by them.

"How much do you know about betrothal sets?" she asked him.

"Not much," he admitted honestly, "I didn't realise my mother was still interested in their use, or I'd never have trusted anything she gave me. When she handed these over, I simply suspected they must be a matching piece set, not a betrothal set."

"Betrothal magic is old, and really twisted stuff Malfoy," she told him seriously, "I'm surprised you were able to tamper with it, actually."

"Something had to work," he shrugged, "Because I tried just about everything I could find to make these things a shield against the Cruciatus curse."

"Why did you make more than one?" Hermione asked, frowning a little, "You only needed one. Why make more?"

"Aunt Bella was prone to ripping things away from people," he admitted quietly, "Anything shiny like jewellery and she was on it like a nifler. I knew that if she turned her wand on me for real, she'd strip me of anything and everything she could to make sure it hurt like nothing else. That's probably why Mother gave these to me, actually. She knew I was looking for something that would be difficult to remove. I expect she never anticipated that I'd have a moment of weakness and give away the other half of the set."

"Aren't you glad you gave it to me instead of Harry or Ron?" Hermione asked, giggling suddenly as the thought struck her of what he might've done if it had been either of the boys being dragged out for questioning, rather than her.

"I'd never have given those gits anything. Wouldn't have needed too. Weasley would have been too lippy and annoyed me, and Potter would've been doomed no matter what I did."

"Then why did you give one to me?" Hermione asked, turning her head to look at him across the quilt.

"You begged for my help," he replied quietly without returning her gaze, though she expected he was aware of the way she scrutinized his features carefully, "And Potter needed you. I was trapped and couldn't do much of anything to help myself. Potter was the only hope for ending the madness, and he needed you alive and not blurting his secrets whilst caught in a pain delirium."

"I meant what I said earlier," Hermione murmured to him, still watching his face and waiting until he glanced at her, "Thank you for giving me this. I didn't think to at the time. I was too terrified, but you didn't have to risk what you did when you helped me. I'd never done anything to prompt your assistance – even if I did ask for it."

Hermione was surprised when he simply regarded her with that same blank stare she'd seen from him at dinner. The one that gave not even a hint of his thoughts or emotions away. He didn't speak in response, he simply stared. Hermione stared back at him, her eyes travelling over his face in a way she'd never allowed herself to examine him before.

She'd never noticed before that his eyebrows were just a few shades darker than his hair. She'd never noticed the sharpness of his high cheekbones, nor the aristocratic flare at the tip of his nose. She'd never noticed the small cleft in his pointed chin, nor the slightest hint of blond stubble lining his sharp jaw. She'd certainly noticed in the past that he was handsome, but she'd never really paid any mind to what it was about his features that made him so. She also found that she much preferred the way he looked when he wore that blank expression rather than his cruel smirk that she'd been on the receiving end of more than once over the years.

The idea that she was stuck with him suddenly occurred to her. She was going to have to get used to him, it seemed. She didn't much fancy the idea of bearing a brand-like scar – as he did – as a result of the pendant hanging around her neck should he shag someone else.

"There's something else you should know," he told her quietly after some prolonged mutual staring.

Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"They'll make us crave each other. The longer we're in each other's company or close proximity, the more effected we'll be. As a betrothal set, they're designed to encourage consummation, thus literally chaining us together for eternity. The more you're around me this year, the more you're going to fantasise about me and the more you're going to want to shag me. And once we do shag, that's it," he explained and Hermione nodded slowly.

She knew that. She'd read about magical betrothal sets like this one in some of her history books.

"So maybe I shouldn't sleep in here after all?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Probably shouldn't," he agreed, "But do it anyway. I haven't slept well in months."

"Then how do you know having me next to you will make you sleep better?" Hermione challenged.

"Don't ask so many questions, Granger," he sighed, getting to his feet and offering her a hand up before he peeled back the bed covers and climbed inside. He tugged on her hand until she climbed in beside him and Hermione held her breath as he threw the covers over both of them

When he waved his wand to douse the lights, they were plunged into darkness and Hermione tensed slightly, suddenly recalling just who he was and what he was capable of. He still held her hand under the covers too, his hand drawing distracted patterns over the skin gently. Hermione hated herself when she felt the first little throb of desire, her mind pointing out that she was drunk and in bed with Draco Malfoy. And that he was the best she'd ever snogged.

Fighting the urge to say, to hell with worries over the effects the chains would have, Hermione rolled onto her side until she was facing him. It was too dark in the room to see much, the small glow from the fireplace the only source of light. It glinted off his white-blonde hair as she looked at him across the pillows. He was lying on his back and looking sideways at her, holding her gaze steadily.

Sighing, Hermione shuffled slowly across the bed until she was pressed into his side, releasing his hand – which he slid under her neck and curled around her back. She slid her own hand across his bare chest under the covers, feeling the smooth skin under her fingers and having to fight the urge to touch him inappropriately. Kicking her leg across his hips, Hermione could feel the evidence that he was as lustful as she was beneath the limb when she laid it over him.

"Do you want me to move?" she asked when he huffed out a little breath as though trying to restrain himself.

"Don't you dare," he warned, "Keep all friction and further movement to yourself, or I'm likely to throw the consequences to the wind and fuck you right now."

Hermione bit her bottom lip on a little whimper when the very words made her feel like she was on fire.

"Don't say that again," she whispered, snuggling her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder. "Or I might as well."

He groaned then, his free hand moving to press her thigh against his length more firmly, clutching at the bared flesh needily. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to think of something else other than the sudden and stifling sexual tension between them.

She sighed in contented surprised sometime later when he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, Granger," he murmured and Hermione smiled sleepily.

"Goodnight, Malfoy," she replied in a whisper, pressing a return kiss to his collarbone before she snuggled down once more and dropped off to sleep in his arms.


	7. The Morning After

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, feeling like something was very wrong indeed. She blinked blearily in the dark room, trying to pinpoint why she felt off. The feel of something warm and decidedly male spooned around her and holding her snugly wasn't unusual for her. Neither was the slight pounding of a headache thanks to having had a few drinks the night before. Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to clear her mind as she processed the sight before her.

The room was unfamiliar to her, but it was nice enough. Morning sunlight was streaming in through a window above the head of the bed, warming her beneath the covers. She wondered idly if it was the feel of having slept through the night for the first time in a long time. Even when she was with Ron she usually didn't sleep the whole night through.

She blinked in confusion as she turned her head slightly, her eyes colliding with the vivid green shade of the sleeve adorning her arm. And with the sight of a pale, male hand intertwined with her own. A hand bearing a signet ring featuring a familiar and unpleasant family crest. She could just make out the Latin inscription  _Santimonia Vincet Semper._  Purity will always conquer.

Hermione gasped as she recognised the Malfoy crest, sitting up suddenly and causing someone to groan in annoyance. She spun as best she could while still being cuddled and while her legs were tangled with his. The slightly frowning face and closed eyes of a barely awake Draco Malfoy met her gaze and Hermione blanched.

"Malfoy?" she hissed, glancing down her at body to see his name scrawled across her chest because she was wearing his Quidditch jersey.

"Granger," he groaned, eyes still closed, his face screwed up as though he was in pain and not at all pleased about being spoken to so early in the morning. He clearly wasn't concerned or surprised to find her in bed with him. He didn't even need to open his eyes and look at her to know it was her. Hermione frowned, realising he must remember everything from the previous night, including how they ended up in bed together.

As she stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, the previous night's activities came flooding back to her and Hermione sighed in relief when she recalled they hadn't shagged. Not that it lasted long when she remembered what he'd told her about the necklaces they both wore.

_The betrothal set_.

"Stop wriggling," he commanded when she began to do just that. "More sleep, witch."

Hermione glared at his face, though he didn't see because he was still trying to sleep, his eyes still closed. Sighing, Hermione flopped back down against him. He wasn't going to let her go, that much was clear from the way he drew her back against him immediately, pressing her closer again, his arms holding her tightly. She didn't know if she should feel special or be horrified.

She tensed when she felt him slide his hand under the hem of the jersey she wore, his warm fingers caressing the smooth flesh of her stomach and making her squirm. Heat thrummed through her veins at the touch and Hermione recalled the effects of the chains they both wore.

"Do these chains heighten the effects of your touch on me?" she asked in a whisper as she found herself pressed deeper into his arms, grinding herself back against the hot, hard lump she could feel prodding her bottom.

"No," he replied, his voice husky with sleep and making Hermione's eyes cross at the sound. She loved the gravelly sound of male voices when men awoke. And Malfoy's was sexy as hell. "They just make us crave each other. Anything you're feeling is all you… or all me, since I'm the one touching you."

Hermione whimpered when she felt his hand beneath the jersey skim over her skin and then up over the curve of her bra to cup her breast firmly. She ground herself back against him again, enjoying the way he rolled his hips forward, grinding himself on her, too. It felt entirely too good to her sleepy mind as he touched her and Hermione turned slightly in his hold, rolling towards him.

She sighed when he slipped his hand under the fabric of her bra to cup her flesh, her nipple pebbling in his palm. She felt entranced by his touch. Her stomach rioted with butterflies, her headache was forgotten as the heat of his touch seared her so completely. Turning in his hold until she was facing him, Hermione skimmed her hands over his torso, her fingers tingling with the touch.

He didn't even open his eyes as she leaned up and kissed him lazily, her tongue tingling with need as she caressed his lips with hers. He smirked against her, his free hand tangling into the curls at the back of her head, securing her for his kiss as he licked at the seam of her lips teasingly, coaxing her to part them. Hermione sighed as she opened to him, her whole body quivering with delight at the feel of his tongue tangling with hers tantalizingly.

She almost cried out when his hand left her breast, catching her own where she clutched at his hip to better grind herself against him. He guided her hand to the hot steel inside his pyjamas. Hermione caressed him through the fabric for a few minutes before dipping her hand inside his waistband the caress his silken length and she groaned into his mouth when he cupped his fingers around her sex before pushing aside the fabric of her knickers. The feel of his skilled fingers sliding through her slick flesh titillated her and Hermione hissed when he rolled her to her back, hovering over her, his lips and tongue caressing her mouth as he slowly speared his fingers inside her dripping gash.

He swallowed her mewl of pleasure at the penetration, working two fingers inside her skilfully until she couldn't think beyond the feel of his cock in her hands and his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her pussy. Her mind was blank of everything but pleasure and the way he was making her so hot and bothered. She knew exactly what she wanted and without thinking Hermione found herself guiding him over her until he was settled between her legs.

He withdrew his fingers from her slowly, curling them against the special spot inside her before he aligned the tip of his throbbing cock at her entrance. Hermione's eyes flew open in a panic as she suddenly recalled all the reasons she wasn't supposed to shag him. Malfoy had the same reaction, jerking himself away from her so violently that he rolled right off the edge of the bed and stumbled back a few steps across the room. He was breathing hard – his erect cock hanging out the top of his pyjama bottoms and Hermione stared wide-eyed at him in horror over what they'd almost done.

She'd almost chained herself to only him for the rest of her life. Her heart was pounding inside her chest, hammering against her ribcage and kicking like a mule for release.

"Fuck!" Malfoy shouted, one hand running through his hair while he tucked himself back into his pants with the other. He eyed her like he wanted to fuck her into a stupor and like he also wanted to turn his wand on himself and end the nightmare. Hermione was trying to catch her breath and trying to comprehend why she wanted him so badly that she'd almost made the biggest mistake of her life.

"That was  _too_  close," Hermione insisted, sitting up and fixing her knickers as she stared at him across the room.

"You're telling me," he growled, looking like he was having to fight just to stay across the room and away from her. His body quivered, trembling with effort to keep away and Hermione realised she was trembling too.

"How much of us wanting each other is the set?" she asked quietly, trying to distract him from any thoughts of a more dangerous nature.

"How would I know?" he asked, looking baffled.

"Well, I mean… did you ever want to shag me  _before_  giving me this?" Hermione asked, indicating to the chain around her neck.

"You're a muggleborn and I was the most prejudiced prat in this place before the war, Granger," he reminded her.

"That doesn't mean you never fantasized me, or didn't passingly think that, muggleborn or not, I was attractive."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "Are you saying you fantasized about me or thought I was attractive before I hung that wretched thing around your neck?"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink.

"I can admit that I'd thought you were attractive," she sighed. "I don't think I ever got past the idea of you referring to me as scum to actually consider touching you in any way, but more than once I noted that you were getting handsome, the older we got. Once you stopped plastering your hair back, that is."

He curled his lip at her for the dig.

"I'm not about to admit to anything," he said stubbornly.

"You admitted to fantasizing about shagging me in the shower last night," Hermione countered. "Did you do so before or after this mess?"

His cheeks turned pink.

"Before," he spat, before sighing. "In one extremely uncomfortable dream after that time I walked in on you in the prefect's bathroom in sixth year."

Hermione blushed too, recalling that night. She'd screamed at him to get out, horrified at the idea of being spotted in the bath by the likes of Malfoy.

"Happy dream?" she teased.

"I woke with sticky sheets, if that's what you're asking," he sneered in retort and Hermione blushed harder.

"Tell me about it?" she asked, tipping her head to one side, intrigued.

"You really don't want to encourage me to think about you in a sexual manner right now, unless you've decided you're alright with basically being married to me and stuck with me for the rest of your life, Granger," he warned.

Hermione sighed, picking at the covers.

"Seems like a distant consequence," she muttered. "Especially when you're standing there shirtless."

He smirked for a moment.

"Only it wouldn't be distant. Neither of us would be able to shag anyone else and we certainly wouldn't be able to play it off as anything but the terribly awkward ordeal that it is," he said. "You really want to tell all your friends that the whole time you were shagging Weasley, you were technically betrothed to me? Because that's what these represent, you know? They're the wizarding equivalent of promise rings. And betrothal bonds are sacred things in our world, as I'm sure you know."

Hermione sighed. No, she didn't much fancy the idea of telling their friends that.

"Anyone paying any kind of attention last night will have noticed that they match. Your friends probably know exactly what they are, you realise that, don't you?" Hermione asked him.

She picked at the fabric of the quilt, trying to distract herself from drinking in the sight of his naked torso.

"They were all too drunk to remember much from last night, I'd reckon. But they will certainly notice them if you play with yours as often as I play with mine whilst distracted. And I know you do. I saw you doing it at dinner and during the game last night," he said.

"There's no way to get them off unless one of us dies, is there?" she asked quietly.

Draco shook his head, biting his lip and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, as though the idea made him blush.

"No. They were designed to ensure that those who entered into betrothals would be tied together for life. In recent years their use was activated at the wedding ceremony, lest one or both parties change their minds at the last minute. They were exchanged in the place of weddings bands and the formal bonding ceremony. Before then, they were used when families made arrangements for betrothals between them. Children as young as six were given them to wear, binding them together and ensuring they only ever shagged each other, forcing the families to keep to the bond agreement lest their children suffer. They don't come off until death."

Hermione nodded along with his explanation, recalling reading about them a long time ago when she'd been researching wizarding customs and traditions.

"So, essentially, even if we don't activate the link right now, we're pretty much stuck together anyway?" Hermione confirmed.

"Pretty much," he sighed. "Unless you're willing to die to avoid being chained to me? Got to tell you, Granger; I'm not willing to die for it. Especially not when I just had my fingers inside you."

Hermione blushed as his casual mention of that fact.

"So… we…?" she trailed off, searching his face carefully.

"Until they're activated we can still see other people," he frowned seriously. "And the effect of either one of us shagging obviously leaves a scar and makes the chain heavy, but it won't kill you. If it did, I'd be dead after the summer  _you_  had."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him in annoyance.

"That being said, the wretched thing hurts like fuck when it gets heavy like that and I'm not actually sadistic or masochistic enough to wish it on you or willingly endure it again if I don't have to," Malfoy went on, heedless of her glare. "However, the alternative is that you and I…"

"We…" Hermione trailed off the same way he did, searching his face.

"Date?" he suggested in a strange voice. "Figure out if we can stand each other enough to, technically, be married? And if not, we endure the wretchedness forevermore and both marry people we don't want to fuck all that often."

Hermione snorted.

"You realised you just suggested that you and I become boyfriend and girlfriend, right Malfoy?" she clarified, finding amusement in the very idea.

"I realise that, Granger," he rolled his eyes. "Try not to act like the idea will shock you into swooning. I did mention that I've put my prejudices behind me. Wouldn't have invited you into bed with me last night or snogged you if I hadn't."

"There is one small problem with your plan," she said.

"Everyone else is going to keel over in shock that the idea of us as a couple?" he suggested.

"Well, that too," Hermione sighed. "But setting aside, for the moment, that my friends will likely pitch a fit; and that your parents may attempt to have me killed to free you from having to be with me; and that the entire wizarding world will cry foul over the notion of so pure and uninterrupted a magical bloodline being tainted with my muggleborn self, there is one other issue."

"Oh?" he arched one eyebrow at her.

"We almost shagged just now," she shrugged. "And I don't know about you, but I tend to very much enjoy the shagging portion of being in a relationship with someone. But if you and I shag, there's no going back, not asking for a rematch, no undoing it once it's done. Essentially, if we shag, we're married. And if we date without shagging it's going to be awkward and it's going to drive us both mad. Worse, the chains make us  _want_  to seal the bond and consummate."

"And if we do it, and the dating is a disaster, we'd be married and stuck forever, regardless," he nodded, his brow furrowing in consternation. "Well… what do we do, then? We can't see anyone else without pain. We can't date without eventually wanting to shag – and I use 'eventually' very loosely, because I want to throw you down and fuck you right this second – and if we shag, we're married, but if we're married and we hate each other it'll be awkward. Then again, if we seal it and end up hating each other, I have more than enough money to pay someone to have you killed, thus freeing me of you and the bloody chain."

"Well, that's comforting," Hermione snorted.

"What? It's an option. One my parents will, undoubtedly, attempt to employ if we go into this allowing anyone to find out that we're dating to begin with because of these necklaces," he argued.

"Are you saying you would never consider dating me without them?" she asked, eyeing him strangely.

"I haven't before."

"Even when you were fantasising about bending me over that mermaid statue in the Prefect's Bathroom?" Hermione challenged.

"How did you know I…?" he trailed off, blushing. "Look, the point is that ordinarily we annoy each other. Or did, in the past. I don't know if I might've considered dating you after having gotten over my prejudice. I  _do_  know that the idea of seeing you lose your mind under Bella's wand drove me to give you the necklace to begin with – though whether that's a personal weakness or has some bearing on the subject remains to be seen. The point is that we've might've considered it, we might not. As of right now, we have no choice but to consider it, so answer me, witch. Do you want to try dating me, or not?"

"You just said I don't have a choice," Hermione teased, noting the pink of his cheeks and finding it rather endearing.

"You won't have a choice about being bent over that bed and spanked for being cheeky if you keep it up, Granger," he threatened and Hermione laughed, pulling the covers up as though they might shield her from the idea.

"You realise we'd have to be very careful about all this?" she asked, smiling slowly.

"About avoiding shagging lest things go sideways?"

"That, too. But about how we introduce the idea to our friends," she said. "Your parents  _will_  try to kill me if they think we're only together because of the chains."

"The most viable option would be to let everyone think we shagged last night," Draco nodded. "And then to let it be known that we're interested in committing the act all over again. My friends are already aware of my… interest… in you, though they don't think it's because of the chains. They're under the impression that seeing you tortured humanized you in my eyes and that, as a result, I've begun to fancy you."

"Have you?" Hermione asked softly, tipping her head to one side.

"I don't know you well enough yet to determine whether I actually fancy you, Granger. I know I'm attracted to you enough that I want to shag you," he shrugged. "But everything else I know about you comes from last night's game, gossip, or from the years we spent as rivals prior to now."

"Right," Hermione sighed, eyeing him. "So we're… dating?"

Malfoy smirked at her slowly.

"Looks like it."


	8. Subterfuge

Sneaking out of Malfoy's bedroom was hilarious because she had to make it look like she was sneaking, but also had every intention of actually being caught. Hermione couldn't help sniggering to herself as she crept out of the room, purposely closing the door too loudly while faking an attempt to close it softly. She purposely looked as ruffled as possible, still dressed in Malfoy's Quidditch jersey and clutching the rest of her clothing in a bundle.

A bundle she purposely dropped with a curse to draw the attention of Susan Bones where she was sitting by the fire reading a book. Hermione blushed crimson when Susan looked over and smiled in greeting before her eyes grew as wide as saucers when she realised who she was, where she'd come from, and how little she was wearing.

"Oh, my…." Susan gasped and Hermione pressed her lips together trying her very best to keep from laughing out loud at how comically shocked Susan was.

"Oh… Um… hi, Susan," Hermione said awkwardly, before purposely dropping her bra on the floor and having to dive down after it.

"Good morning, Hermione," Susan managed, soundly positively mortified and yet amused all at once.

"Listen… uh… I don't suppose I can count on you not to mention this to anyone, can I?" Hermione asked of the Hufflepuff, needing to play her part of the mortified good-girl, but also wanting to loiter for as long as possible to ensure someone more likely to gossip would open the door and spot her.

"I… of course, Hermione," Susan vowed. "I promise I won't breathe a word."

Hermione smiled awkwardly. "Thanks, Susan."

Before she could worry about needing to find some other way to prolong the walk of shame to her own room, which was right next door, the door behind her opened with a jerk.

"Granger?" Malfoy growled at her huskily, leaning in the doorway, still shirtless. He reached for the front of her jumper when she turned to face him with a loud gasp, playing the part of having been caught sneaking out.

"Malfoy?" she squeaked, eyeing him and hating the way her nethers tingled with the urge to push him back into his room and have her way with him, rumours or the risk of marriage be damned.

"I want that jersey back, woman," he warned her, smirking wickedly. "And you forgot these."

Hermione cheeks flushed for real when he held his hands out, her knickers dangling from his index finger. Right at that moment the door to Neville's room opened and a well ravished looking Tracy Davis stumbled out, similarly disrobed – indeed she was only wearing her knickers. Her eyes went wide when she spotted Hermione and Draco facing off, Hermione's knickers dangling in the space between them.

"Right," Hermione pretended to be mortified, snatching a hand for her knickers and hissing when Malfoy jerked them up out of her reach.

"You have to pay for them," he smirked at her, pretending obliviousness of Susan and Tracy.

"Just give them back, you git," Hermione hissed, jumping for them and purposely dropping her bra again in the process.

"What'll you give me for them?" Draco teased. "I think I could probably sell these for a pretty sickle. It's not every day one manages to talk a pencil-necked bookworm out of her knickers, you know. There's probably someone around here who would buy them."

"I  _will_  hex you," Hermione warned narrowing her eyes on him and reaching for the knickers again, trying very hard not to laugh.

"If I wanted to be hexed, I'd ask someone more accomplished," Draco taunted.

"Then what do you want?" Hermione snapped, stomping her foot and entirely too aware of the way Tracy was standing in the doorway of Neville's room, her hand over her mouth and her eyes huge as she watched their little scene play out.

"I think you know, Granger," Draco smirked wickedly before raking his eyes up and down her petite frame in a most lascivious way.

"Don't you think that if I'd wanted to go again, I wouldn't be sneaking out?" Hermione challenged.

"Sneaking?" he scoffed. "You might as well have stampeded a herd of hippogriffs through here with the amount of noise you were making. You wanted to get caught and be lured back in, Granger. Admit it."

"Never," Hermione said stubbornly.

She squeaked when Malfoy chuckled wickedly, her jumping having brought her into close enough reach that he looped an arm around her waist, pressing her to himself before leaning down and capturing her lips. Hermione melted. She knew she did and she hated that it wasn't just a result of putting on a show to get the word out that they'd supposedly been caught shagging. She melted against his lips when he traced her lower lip with the tip of his tongue before sweeping it into her mouth and stroking hers.

She heard the strangled sound of someone choking in shock coming from the couch where Susan was sitting and she could hear wicked laughter coming from Tracy. Hermione didn't care. And that, she suspected, might be a problem. Especially when Draco tossed her knickers over his shoulder and back into his room, his freed hand tangling into her hair while he walked backward, pulling her with him.

He kicked the door closed and pushed her up against it roughly enough to make it rattle, ensuring that Tracy and Susan would think they were shagging. Hermione didn't care. She couldn't. Her heart was racing and her whole body tingled and she was pretty sure she was making a mess on her thighs with how wet she was for him. Something he took advantage of when he curled her leg up over his hip before sliding his hand down and over her hot sex.

Hermione whined in the back of her throat, the sound swallowed as he snogged her hungrily. She knew it was trouble. She knew it was a bad idea. She knew she should be telling him to stop or they were at risk of actually committing the very act they weren't supposed to if they ever wanted to be free of each other again. When he slipped two of his fingers inside her, Hermione's head dropped back, thudding against the door as a ragged moan tore from her lips.

Malfoy took advantage of the position, lowering his lips to her neck and kissing the sweet spot below her ear.

"Gods, Malfoy," Hermione whined, not even having to act for their undoubtedly eavesdropping audience. She wanted him. She wanted him like she'd never wanted anything else in her whole life. Her body ached and throbbed with need and she rocked herself against his fingers as he pumped them in and out slowly before beckoning against the front wall of her passage and making her moan again.

He worked her over mercilessly, never letting up no matter how she squirmed. When he pressed his thumb to her clit, Hermione squealed and when he drew circles upon it, she detonated. His wicked chuckle rang with triumph as Hermione orgasmed, her whole body jerking against the door, her knees buckling and her quim pulsing. He pushed her through it, slowing his caress, but not stopping it entirely.

Hermione found her hands delving under his waistband as she tried to catch her breath, stars still sparkling behind her eyes and Malfoy's chuckle ended abruptly with a groan when she used both hands, working them in tandem, one over the other, gripping his cock and pumping up and down. He abandoned his grip on her to lean the against the door and without him holding her up, she sank to her knees, her legs too wobbly to hold her up.

She didn't even think about it before darting her tongue out and swiping it over the leaking head of his cock, gathering his taste upon her tongue. Malfoy groaned softly and Hermione tipped her head up slightly, finding his eyes half-lidded but fixed on her, just waiting to see her suck him off. Hermione blinked innocently before smirking and wrapping her lips around him, swirling her tongue over the swollen head and making him hiss in surprise.

She laved his flesh keenly, all too willing to repay the favour after he'd so skilfully brought her to orgasm. Swirling her tongue over him, Hermione slowly sank down his length until she couldn't take anymore. What she couldn't suck, she worked with her hands.

"Fucking hell, Granger," he muttered. "If I'd known you'd do this, I'd have sought you out years ago."

Hermione glanced up at him again, meeting his gaze in surprise at his words but if he was aware of saying them, it didn't show. He looked like he was experiencing the sweetest sensation of bliss he'd ever known and Hermione felt a little flush of warmth and happiness to know she must be doing something right. Bobbing her mouth over him, she worked him over slowly, sucking hard enough to hollow her cheeks on each withdrawal, and swirling her tongue as she swallowed him once more.

"Fuck," Malfoy cursed again. "Sweet fucking Salazar."

His hips twitched as she moved faster, and his breath grew ragged. Hermione took her time, slowly learning his shape and figuring out how much of him she could take. She hummed a little when he shifted slightly, leaning one forearm against the door and resting his forehead upon it, the other hand dropping to tangle into her curls, his nails scraping lightly against her scalp in silent praise. She quivered, surprised by the affectionate touch and even more surprised by the surge of something she felt inside herself in response to it.

Moving her mouth slower, wanting to draw out his pleasure, Hermione tongued the slit at the head of his cock, making him gasp.

"I'm getting close," he warned her softly and Hermione opened her eyes, tilting her head to meet his gaze.

He watched her with an intensity that should've scared her, Hermione noted. He looked at her right then like he wouldn't even mind being stuck with her forever if she would just suck his cock every day for their rest of their lives. He looked at her like he wanted to find out if her other lips offered as much velvet heat. Hermione held his gaze, refusing to back down from the challenge when he licked his lips, his hand balling into a fist against the door as he reached for his self-control.

Hermione smirked around him as best she could, licking at the head again before swallowing him once more. She watched his grey eyes flare with lust and something else, his hand tightening in her hair and his hips jerking just a bit.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he groaned softly when she worked him over faster once more, bobbing her head and pushing him, wanting to watch him come undone.

He made a soft sound of warning and pleasure rolled into one when his hips jerked again before his cock twitched in her mouth. Warmth spread across her tongue and Hermione pulled back far enough not to choke or gag, swallowing what she could. Later she was sure she'd be horrified with herself over the idea of doing something so intimate with the likes of Malfoy, but right then she wanted all of it; all of him.

He pulled back from her when he was spent, his own knees appearing weak as he pushed away from the door and stumbled backward across the room to flop down on the bed. Hermione smirked when she watched him do so, sitting back on her heels and sighing as she wiped her mouth. He was breathing hard as he laid there, his pants around his ankles and his entire naked form on display to her hungry gaze.

She watched him quietly, tracing her eyes over the long, smooth lines of his body. She'd seen him naked the previous night, but it was a bit different to see him now, in the light, at ease and yet still seeming coiled with power and grace.

"Come here, Granger," he said, holding one hand out toward her without lifting his head. He made a grabby-hand gesture at her when she didn't immediately hurry over and Hermione sniggered at what a brat he was.

"You realise that both Susan and Tracy saw us, right?" Hermione confirmed, getting to her feet carefully and leaning against the door until her knees stopped quaking.

"Good," he grunted, making grabby-hands at her again until she crossed the room and took hold of his outstretched hand. He tugged her down on top of him, surprising her.

"Good?" she asked.

"We wanted people to find out, yeah?" he said without opening his eyes.

Yes, that had been the idea. Of course, it would've been better if everyone just  _thought_  they'd shagged, rather than that they'd… well, they hadn't shagged, but still. She hadn't been expecting to be pulled back into the room and fingered.

"Do I want to know where you learned to do that, Granger?" Malfoy asked, changing the subject and Hermione blushed.

"Probably not," she mumbled.

"Krum?" he guessed.

"You're not going to start some kind of pissing contest with him, are you?" Hermione asked. "I'll walk out the door and you can forget the idea of us being a couple if you're going to be a prat about my ex-boyfriend."

"He's our teacher and I'm not above reminding him that as such, he has to keep his hands to himself while I don't."

"I'll bet he's not above assigning you detention every time he catches your hands anywhere near me," Hermione muttered in retort.

"He's still got a thing for you, Granger."

Hermione sighed. "I know. I've tried to discourage it and to insist we can't be anything other than friends now, but he's rather fond of me."

"If you sucked his dick the way you just sucked mine, I can see why," he grumbled and Hermione swatted him.

"Must you be so crass?" she demanded. "I thought you'd been raised a proper gentleman!"

Malfoy smirked, opening his eyes and lifting his head enough to meet her gaze.

"I  _am_  a proper gentleman," he said. "With other likeminded people."

"Are you calling me a plebe?" Hermione growled, narrowing her eyes on him.

"My little crofter girlfriend," he taunted. "Your name  _is_  Granger, after all."

Hermione hit him again, furious that he knew enough about language to know such a thing. He laughed, fending off the blows when she began repeatedly swatting him in annoyance. Hermione huffed when he rolled them both until she was pinned under him, heedless of his trousers being around his ankles or the fact she wore only his Quidditch jersey.

"I hate you," Hermione declared when he pinned her hands to the bed above her head.

"Is that any way to talk to your boyfriend?" he smirked.

"Get off me before you accidentally become my husband," she said, squirming when his groin brushed against hers. "I'd hate to have to kill you."

"You'll fall for me, you know?" he warned, raising one eyebrow in challenge.

"I won't," she assured him. "You just called me a peasant and declared it fine to speak to me like I'm some lowly chav. You're lucky I haven't hexed you."

"Just stating the facts, Granger," he said and Hermione kicked him. "Violent little thing, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," Hermione replied.

"If you're about to tell me you're kinky I might come again," he informed her.

"Urgh. Are  _you_  kinky?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "I usually don't even like to be touched, so I doubt it. But I'm not above spanking you if you get out of line, witch."

Hermione nipped the end of his nose in punishment, startling him.

"Ouch!" he hissed, staring at her in shocked outrage. "I was right. You  _are_  a feral little urchin. Who bites someone on the nose?"

"Let me up or I'll bite you again," she warned him, annoyed.

"You're fun," Draco informed her. From the tone in his voice and the look on his face, she could tell it was a bad thing because it was a weakness and he was a shit-stirrer who would thoroughly enjoy baiting her if he knew he could rile her up.

Huffing again, Hermione forced her body to relax beneath him.

"This is… odd," she said when he slowly stopped smirking and simply observed her guardedly with one of those non-expressions of his that gave nothing of his thoughts away.

"Indeed," he agreed. "I don't think I've ever been naked whilst not fucking anyone but still this close to them before."

Hermione snorted. "Well doesn't that just tell tales that you're not a cuddler afterward?"

"I'm not," he warned. "Sweaty and sticky and hot, yes. Wanting to press against anyone whilst in that state  _after_  I've come? No, thank you."

"I suppose you don't like sharing the shower either?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Never tried it," he admitted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How could you not have tried it?"

"I'm a spoiled prince and an arrogant ponce most of the time," he said, as though she needed reminding. "The women I've bedded have come at my call and been sanctimoniously kicked out when I'm done. Most witches have attachment issues when I'm through with them."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Attachment to your bank vault, maybe," she replied. "Why else would that put up with your snarky attitude?"

"Keep talking and I'll show you exactly why I have to throw them from my bed," he growled playfully, smirking again.

"I'm terrified," Hermione said, rolling her eyes again.

"You should be. If I fuck you, you're my wife, and that means you have to be pulled into line and taught how to behave like the next Lady Malfoy of Malfoy Manor."

"If you think I'd ever pander to the whims of society and play at being some snobby, pompous bitch, you're mistaken."

"You don't have to play at being snobby, pompous  _or_  a bitch," he replied. "Mother will be so pleased she doesn't have to un-teach you niceness."

"If only she'd taught  _you_  a little niceness," Hermione replied, narrowing her eyes on him again for the insult. "I've got some competition for the queen bitch title with you around."

"King Bitch, thank you very much," Draco retorted with such smugness and the heir of a regent that Hermione actually laughed.

"Merlin, I can't put up with you," she told him. "You'll drive me spare being such a drama queen all the time. You're a spoiled brat and you know it. What's worse is that despite knowing it, you continue to demand to have your way and continue to be a right git about it, too."

"I'm growing on you already," he said.

"Like a fungus," she answered. "One I'm desperately seeking a cure for."

"I've got your cure right here, Granger," he retorted before claiming her lips and snogging her hotly. She snogged him until she forgot what she was annoyed about and Malfoy made a face when he pulled back from her lips.

"You taste like me," he complained.

"As though it's my fault you have no self-control?" Hermione challenged.

He narrowed his eyes on her. "Keep insulting my manhood, Granger, I dare you. Just see where it gets you. Other than locked in this room with me all weekend and well-fucked as my new wife, that is."

Hermione shuddered at the very idea and Malfoy smirked all the more.

" _Such_  a bitch," he shook his head as though marvelling at her ability to be mean when she hadn't said a word. She couldn't help it when she laughed at the way he looked amused, perplexed and annoyed all at the same time.

"Why do I kind of enjoy your company, even when you're being a complete arse?" Hermione asked.

He smirked cockily and bounced one eyebrow at her.

"I'm irresistible," he said.

"Oh, sure," Hermione rolled her eyes. "And I'm the queen of England."

"You'll be queen of the wizarding world if you fuck me," he pointed out.

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "More like I'll be the girl the mob all tries to rescue from the terrible dragon, wanting to save me my wretched fate and assuring me that good girls like me don't associate with the likes of you dangerous criminals."

Draco made a face and Hermione realised she'd taken the joke too far by pointing out that right now his family were  _not_  well thought of in the magical community and that no amount of money would undo servitude to Voldemort. She tried to stop him when he rolled off her and sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. Hermione winced, sitting up too and leaning against his side despite the way he tensed.

"Sorry," she apologised quietly. "I took it too far."

"You don't say?" he said coolly.

"I said I was sorry," she sniffed.

He didn't answer, sitting there rigid like he was just waiting for her to get up and leave until she was ready to grovel at his feet for his forgiveness. She imagined that before the war, he'd been very used to people grovelling for his attention or forgiveness because he was rich and his family was old and powerful and extremely influential politically. Now he was more likely to be spat on in the halls than he was to be treated with respect. Last night's feast had proved that.

"This will never work," she sighed, running a hand through her hair and getting to her feet when he didn't say anything else. "We're already fighting."

"Of course we are," he sneered coldly. "It's no secret that we're both haughty and snobby. I wasn't joking when I said that you're a pompous bitch, Granger. You are. I am, too. We're going to clash all the time."

"Then I suppose even trying to make this work is a waste of time," Hermione said. "I'm sure there must be some way to get these chains off. I'll have a look in the library and see what I can come up with."

As she began gathering her clothes into her arms once more, intending to leave and return to her room, Draco simply watched her from the bed. Were he someone like Harry or Ron, this would be the part of the argument where things would either be made worse by either of them being pushed too far and telling her to shove it; or it would be the part where they scrambled to apologise and made sure she wasn't going to quit their friendship.

Not Malfoy. He didn't say a word or make a move to stop her as she pulled her knickers back on and peeled his jersey off over her head, laying it over the back of his chair and beginning to dress herself respectably once more. He didn't speak, he just sat there, those intense grey eyes fixed on her, watching her every move. She supposed that he was waiting for the grovelling, and Hermione wouldn't do it. She was too proud and she refused to humiliate herself that way.

When she was completely dressed she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him, meeting his gaze.

"Are you leaving, or not?" he asked after continuing to stare at her in silence for several long heartbeats.

"Do you  _want_  me to leave?" she asked. "You're the one pouting because I said the wrong thing even though I immediately apologised. And after I didn't take offence when you called me a crofter, too."

"You just referred to my family as dangerous criminals the likes of which the masses would flock to rescue you from, Granger," he pointed out, obviously stung.

Hermione huffed.

"Malfoy your family  _were_  dangerous criminals. I know that things weren't entirely as they seemed during the height of the war, but don't delude yourself that until Riddle turned on him, you father wasn't involved in the Dark Arts or thrilled to be among the Death Eater ranks. Don't pretend he wasn't up to his neck in it long before Riddle went public. You probably don't know what a horcrux is or what effect they have on those who interact with them, but let me tell you're they are the foulest form of Black Magic known to wizardkind. They're wretched cursed objects and your father thrust one into the care of Ginny Weasley when she was eleven years old. He almost used the Killing Curse on Harry at the end of our second year when Harry tricked him into freeing Dobby, too. I'm sorry if it offends you, but you don't get to be huffy and upset just because I stated the facts, Malfoy. Until you all defected, your family were dangerous criminals, the likes of which the mobs would've rushed to save someone like me from."

Draco narrowed his eyes on her.

"If I was such a dangerous criminal, would I have given you that bloody necklace hanging around your pretty little neck?" he demanded. "I didn't have to risk my life to help you, Granger, but I fucking did it."

"You did," she agreed. "And I'm grateful, no matter the mess it's landed us in as a result. But don't you dare sit there like you didn't hear the way your father begged you to confirm it was Harry before that Stinging Jinx wore off, chittering about how all would be forgiven with the Dark Lord if you were the ones to hand Harry over to him. I understand that he's your father and that you love him, Malfoy, but if you cannot see that he was wrong and that he was and still is dangerous, then you're a fool."

"He's changed," Draco insisted. "I've changed. Would I really be arguing about being in a relationship with you if I hadn't?"

"For all I know, Draco, you've made up everything you've told me about the necklaces and are only showing an interest in me because if you were seen to be dating Britain's currently-most-famous muggleborn witch, it would go a long way to making the Malfoys look reformed and repentant."

Hermione held her ground when Draco shot to his feet, his expression indignant. The overall effect of his obvious fury was somewhat lost thanks to his nudity, his pants still around his ankles, but it was nonetheless intimidating to see there was still a powerful and passionate wizard inside the calmer, more polite shell he'd become of the boy she'd known before the war.

"If you really think that, Granger, then get the fuck out of my room," he hissed coldly. "I'd rather not associate with the type of cynical bitch who has such a low opinion of me to accuse me of using her for anything, let alone anything as unimportant to me as reputation."

"You deny that dating me would make you and your family look good in the current anti-blood-prejudice political climate? Hermione challenged raising her eyebrows at him.

"I deny wanting to fuck you for it," he snapped. "Would it help? Of course it would. Eventually. This soon after the war, however, being seen dating you would  _look_  like that's what we were trying to do and so we wouldn't fucking consider it. And before you ask, yes, my father  _is_  still enough of a bastard that he suggested it before my mother tossed the idea out as being too fucking obvious and brown-nosing. Meaning that  _if_  you and I decided to make a go of things, it would be in direct violation of my parents' wishes and suggestions. Meaning that  _if_  I decide I want to learn how to put up with your pretentious, patronizing, pencil-necked fucking presence as some permanent fixture in my life, it would be not only political suicide and a guaranteed argument with my father, it would also be because I fucking  _chose_  to flick the rest of the world the forks for _you_. Excuse me if I don't appreciate being reminded that my family made some stupid fucking mistakes and if I don't take kindly to being called no better that a gold-digger for your influence since I obviously don't need the bloody money."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him, not at all pleased to hear that Lucius had suggested Draco try seducing her to win back some favour for their family.

"And how do I know you're not just ignoring your mother's advice and listening to your father like you've often done in the past, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded. "Excuse me for being a bit cynical about the 'noble' intentions of the boy who used to speak to me in the same sort of tone that one might describe something nasty stuck to a lavatory. I don't mean to come across as a bitch, but the fact remains that chained together now or not, you and I have an unfortunate history."

He glared at her.

"I thought, after what you said during the feast, that you'd gotten over all that, Granger," he said coldly.

"I have," Hermione stomped her foot. "I'm very aware that if you hadn't helped me at the Manor that day, I'd either be dead or a drooling mess cooped up in St Mungo's but don't you dare stand there and glare at me like one noble act in a desperate moment somehow clears you of all guilt. Don't hold it up as some undoubtable proof that you're a better person who would never do anything wretched again. The advantages to you and your family to be seen dating me, either now or in future, are many and the disadvantages are few."

"Aside from having to put up with your personality, that is," he snarked.

Were she a more violent person, Hermione might've hit him.

"You'll have to put up with being hexed by me if you keep being a jerk," Hermione replied coldly.

"You'll find I'm not above retaliating if you attack me, witch," he said, narrowing his eyes once more. "If you have no faith in me to be decent, I'm not going to argue otherwise. If you don't want to try and sort out this mess with the chains by finding out if we can get along enough to be together then get out of my room, Granger. Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out, because I won't be holding it for you."

With that, he yanked his pyjamas back up his legs so he wasn't standing there and arguing with her naked anymore and for some reason the way he huffed about it made her giggle. He narrowed his eyes on her dangerously when he realised she was laughing and the tension inside of her drained as rapidly as it had come until she dissolved into laughter, clutching her sides and gasping for breath. She couldn't help it. Arguing with him felt so different to arguing with anyone else she'd ever had a fight with. Ron tended to obnoxiously yell and talk over the top of her, knowing she'd outsmart him if he let her get a word in edgeways. Harry tended to just boil over like a cauldron left on the heat, snapping from reasonable to furious and mean in a heartbeat; and Ginny tended to get cutting with her words and then dismiss everything Hermione might say in reply.

Malfoy didn't do any of those things. He was unerringly cold and almost unfeeling as he stated his thoughts on the matter. A little mean. A little angry. Most intriguing to Hermione was that he was content to let the argument continue by letting her leave before it was resolved. That was something she'd never encountered before. Harry would storm off and calm down alone before realising what a ponce he'd been and apologising if he'd been in the wrong, or demanding one if he hadn't. Ron tended to pout and sulk until she gave in and let the silly topic of their fight go. Ginny was mean about her grudges and she had been known to go as far as publicly humiliating those who annoyed her and didn't apologise.

Hermione had the feeling that Malfoy wasn't like any of them. He was too proud to admit he'd been wrong, or that he'd been overly sensitive. He was too cold and unfeeling – or too well trained to feign it, even if he wasn't. She didn't doubt that if she walked out of his room right then, he would dismiss the notion of pursuing anything with her, let her think badly of him, and bury whatever feelings he had on the matter under a heavy layer of arrogance and snobbishness until she faded from existence in his eyes.

She wasn't sure she liked the notion that he would actually let her go, even if they hadn't been anything but enemy combatants before last night. She could be proud too, and she'd been known to cut people out of her life if they showed or feigned for long enough that they didn't give a stuff about her. She didn't fancy the idea of being with anyone who would so easily let her walk out of his life. Mostly she didn't like the notion that she could fall into the trap of being the one to give in over the points of their arguments if she chose to stay with him. She'd never been very good at admitting she was wrong, especially since it was a rare thing for Hermione Granger to be wrong about things, but mostly because she was stubborn and a bit pig-headed. She'd been sorted into Gryffindor, after all.

"You'll just let me walk out of here?" she challenged Malfoy when she stopped giggling over the idea of arguing in the nude. "You won't try to fight to make sure we don't both suffer forever as a result of these chains?"

He didn't even bat an eye before saying, "Honestly, Granger, if you're looking for the type of wizard who'll run after you and fall all over himself to win you back if you want to leave, you'd be better off dating the likes of Longbottom. If you want to storm out of here in a strop because you offended me and think so poorly of me to have started this fight, that's on you. If you want someone who's going to chase you, I'm not him.  _If_  I fuck up, I  _might_ apologise, but don't hold your breath. I'm  _not_  noble or chivalrous or sentimental. I'm not emotional. I'm cold, and cruel, and a right heartless bastard most of the time. If it comes to it that we can't get these chains off and can't be together, I will discreetly pay someone to stage your untimely death and move on with my life without a second thought about it, witch. That's who  _I_ am. And if you don't like who I am, I'm not going to beg you to change your mind or try to make you stay. Go, if you're going."

"And if I'm staying?" she asked, frowning at him now.

"Then you're a fool," he muttered so quietly she wasn't sure she was supposed to hear him. He shrugged his shoulders at her before jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the bed.

Hermione wondered if he meant that she should get into bed if she was staying, or that he was going back to bed and she could do as she pleased. She wasn't sure she liked the idea that he could so easily discuss having her killed if she inconvenienced him; or if she liked that he wouldn't fight for her. She wasn't used to it, that much was certain. She bit her lip when he turned his back on her and climbed back into bed, apparently thoroughly done with their row. She narrowed her eyes, watching him get comfortable in the bed and hating the way she felt torn between wanting to scuttle over and join him, knowing it would be warm. She hated that the alternative was essentially a declaration of her thoughts that he was an irredeemable wretch. She hated that he'd somehow manipulated her into having to declare whether she wanted to make a go of things with him right now, or if she was going to take the easy way out and leave.

Most of all she hated that the entire mess was over a poorly thought-out jab and right then she realised with a jolt just how manipulative and sneaky he could be. He probably wasn't even that offended by the notion that his family were scoundrels. He'd just used the opening she'd provided to make her admit some sort of feeling, one way or the other, to figure out how she felt about everything they'd been doing and about her intentions.

Tricky, that's what he was. Hermione didn't like it. Not one little bit. Mostly because she'd realised that not only was he a vindictive prat, he was also, possibly, smarter than her.  _That_  notion didn't sit well, at all.

"You know, if you'd wanted some kind of hint or declaration of how I feel about all this, you could've just asked, Draco," Hermione said quietly, glancing down at her feet for a moment and frowning just a little.

When she looked up again his eyes were fixed on her and his expression was one of wicked amusement mixed with annoyance. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to give some indication that he was sorry for manipulating her or upsetting her. He didn't offer any. His only response was to peel back the bed covers, silently inviting her to crawl back into bed next to him if she wanted to.

She didn't like that, either. How dare he manipulate her into admitting how she felt before offering her a way to express it that would involve slinking across the room and undressing once more? He was a right bastard, Hermione decided even as she began peeling her clothing back off. A right bastard who looked smug that she was going to join him rather than leaving. A right bastard whom, she supposed, she ought to begin thinking of in the terms of being her boyfriend. A right bastard who had the smug audacity to loop his arm over her waist and spoon his body around hers when she climbed into bed and faced away from him, both embarrassed that she was joining him despite everything, and annoyed that he'd so easily manipulated her.

Hermione huffed in frustration when he burrowed his hand up the front of her shirt, his fingers toying with the chain looped around her neck that essentially suggested she would have to put up with him for the rest of her life. She didn't really know what to make of everything that the idea didn't upset her as much as it probably should've, no matter what he'd done or what he'd said. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on going back to sleep, rather than dwelling on her apparently budding feelings for the git.


	9. Chapter 8: Invaded

Hermione woke late in the day to the feel of a hot tongue swiping up the length of her slit. Groaning, and lifting her head, she peered down the length of her thoroughly naked body to meet Draco Malfoy's grey-eyed gaze, frowning at him fiercely for daring to wake her up, even if he was doing it in the most glorious way anyone ever had.

"Did I say you could touch me there?" she asked huskily, her head muzzy with sleep.

Malfoy flicked his grey eyes in her direction before very deliberately delving his tongue between her folds and making her crazy.

"Do you object?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her, his voice making his tongue vibrate against her delightfully.

"Not really," Hermione sighed, her head flopping back as she relaxed into the sensation.

"Pushover," he chuckled wickedly, clearly amused by her easy surrender.

"Am not," Hermione argued, frowning at the canopy over his bed and wondering idly what the time was before he thoroughly distracted her when he buried his face between her legs once more.

Hermione's breath hitched as he took his sweet time sampling her flavour and lapping at her like he couldn't get enough. Her head tossed from side to side and she closed her eyes, letting the sensation sweep her away, wondering what Harry and Ron would say if they could see her now. The idea of their utter horror almost made her laugh, but she bit down on the urge, lest Malfoy think she was laughing at him.

As though sensing her distraction, he slipped his hands up the length of her legs before his fingers joined his tongue in their torment of Hermione. She groaned as he used his mouth and his hands to make sweet love to her, tormenting her until she was sure she might scream. He took his time lapping at her skin, suckling the sensitive bud at the top of her slit into his mouth and alternating between penetrating her with his fingers and his tongue until Hermione cried out, her hands tangled in his soft blond hair.

"Gods, Malfoy," Hermione whispered, her face screwed up against the tidal wave of pleasure building and building just waiting to crash into her and sweep away her sense.

His low, wicked chuckle tickled her sensitive flesh before he began to fuck her with his tongue and Hermione sobbed when the coil of tension snapped free.

"Argh!" she squealed, arching off the bed and writhing under his touch.

He pinned her thighs to the bed and Hermione sobbed when he licked her all the way through the orgasm as though he couldn't get enough of her. When the pulsing stopped, Hermione sprawled on the bed, panting for breath and reaching for him needily. Malfoy let her pull him up the length of her body until he was stretched out on top of her, and he smirked wickedly when she opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"Good morning," he said, looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Hello," Hermione said, her lips twitching with amusement at how smug he looked. "Is this your way of apologizing for being a manipulative git earlier?"

He grinned a little bigger before leaning down and planting his lips on hers. Hermione made a noise of disgust at the taste of herself on his lips, turning her head away to avoid the flavour.

"What time is it?" she asked when he proceeded to laugh at her annoyance before kissing her neck hungrily as he began to rock his hips, grinding himself against the junction of her thighs despite the fact that he was still wearing pyjama pants.

"A little after midday," he told her, peppering her skin with little nips and kisses that were driving her mad.

"Already?" Hermione frowned.

"Mmm," Malfoy hummed, grinding against her like he wanted to have his wicked way with her. "We slept for a long time."

Hermione nodded slowly, frowning a little and trying to remember the last time she'd slept so long without nightmares waking her up in the middle of the night.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, rolling him off her and straddling him when she realised he was going to try to shag her again if she didn't intervene.

"When?" he asked.

"Through the night?" she confirmed, rolling her hips and creating friction where he wanted it most, making him close his eyes like he was in heaven.

"I don't think so," he said, his voice husky with need. "Did I wake you?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all," she said.

Sliding slowly down the length of his body, Hermione took her time tracing the scar across his chest with the tip of her tongue before she worked his pants down his legs. She circled his belly-button with her tongue and kissed her way south, smirking to herself just a little when he tangled his fingers in her hair, his breath hitching under her attentions.

"Fucking hell, Granger," he groaned when she carefully wrapped her hand around his cock and began to stroke him.

"Something wrong, Malfoy?" she asked.

His only response was a low whine when Hermione dragged her tongue up the underside of his cock from base to tip before circling the swollen head and tasting how badly he wanted her. She'd never really been all that fond of sucking cock before, but the way he responded was so strangely genuine, so real for someone usually so non-expressive, that she took great delight in every hitch of breath and every sound she managed to draw from him.

She took her time learning his taste, returning the favour he'd paid her, and Hermione grinned internally when he began muttering a litany of praises and expletives as she took her time working her mouth up and down the length of him.

"Sweet fucking Circe, you're a goddess, Granger," he muttered. "Fucking hell, I'm going to come. Blimey, you're amazing. Merlin, I shouldn't have been such a prat to you before the war. I could've been enjoying this every day… bloody hell. Fuck. Fuck!"

Hermione laughed when she lifted her mouth off him, giggling in amusement at his words before swirling her tongue over the head of his cock only to swallow him all over again. The low groan of delight he emitted made parts of her tingle excitedly and Hermione feared they might never leave his bedroom at this rate. His hips jerked, both of his hands knotted in her messy curls and Hermione used her hands to work the length of him she couldn't swallow without gagging.

"Oh, God," she heard him whisper a short time later and she felt the way his bollocks tightened in her grip as she fondled him gently.

Knowing he was close made her work harder, wanting to throw him over the edge and into blissfulness. His breath came in sharp gasps and Hermione felt his fingers tighten in her hair until it was almost painful before his hips jerked once; twice. Salty come spread across her tongue and Hermione swallowed until he was spent before slowly releasing him.

"Fuck," she heard Malfoy huff sharply when she carefully crawled up the length of his body.

His hands slipped out of her hair and he laid there sprawled on the bed, panting heavily. He looked like he'd just been hit upside the head with something heavy, his eyes slightly dazed and Hermione smirked smugly to herself to have so thoroughly rocked his world.

"Blimey, witch," he muttered to her when Hermione curled herself over him, burrowing her cheek against the middle of his chest and delving her hands under his back as she cuddled into him.

Hermione hummed a little when he curled his arms around her, holding her to him despite claims that he wasn't a cuddler. For several minutes they laid there together in silence and Hermione closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin and noting that he still smelled a bit like lake water. She supposed she must do, too, and she opened her eyes again in horror when she realised the state her hair must be in.

Before she could begin to panic about it, a rapid knocking on Draco's door interrupted the quiet and Hermione froze, squeaking in surprise when the door was unceremoniously flung open before Malfoy could answer whoever was intruding.

"Oi, fucker, you can't lay around in bed all day…. Oh, shite!" Theodore Nott's voice was a scrape across her senses and Hermione squealed when she realised he'd come into the room and could likely see her bum.

"Theo, fuck off, mate," Draco drawled, casually reaching for the duvet and flinging it over the two of them to hide Hermione's body from his friend's gaze.

"Bloody hell, what is going on in  _here_?" Theo asked, sounding genuinely shocked.

"What's it look like, Theo?" Malfoy drawled, tipping his head a little so that he could meet Hermione's gaze, clearly concerned about the way her nails were digging into his skin in shock and concern that they'd been caught.

It'd been their intention to be caught and to have people begin to think that they were interested in each other so that it wouldn't seem entirely out of the ordinary when they announced they were dating – if they could tolerate each other that long. But that didn't mean she wanted to be walked in on whilst naked and snuggling with Draco.

"It looks like you fucked Granger," Theo said. "Holy shit. I just… blimey. I shouldn't be seeing this."

"As though you're such an angel and your delicate little eyes can't handle the sight of such sin?" Hermione asked, finding her voice and blinking at Malfoy worriedly, wondering what they were supposed to do and how they were supposed to live this down.

"It's not that," Theo said, propping his shoulder in the doorway and curling one ankle around the other. "This just feels like an otherworldly moment. This is like the first time you see a unicorn. Something intimate and private and strangely arousing and kind of awe-inspiring."

"Remind me to keep you away from the school unicorns you find so arousing, Theodore," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Pfft, they don't like men, anyway," Theo waved a dismissive hand. "Point is, this is a point in history that needs to be recorded. The first time Draco Malfoy gets off his bloody high-horse and shags a muggleborn. Alert the papers! Merlin's left bollock, your Father's going to pitch a fit, Draco."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"You're a little late, Theo," Draco drawled. "The first time was last night. You're only five rounds too late, but then you've never been first out the gate, have you?"

"Keep insulting me, fucker, and I'll invite myself in there with you. I don't reckon Granger will mind," Theo said, smirking wickedly.

"She's not a blonde, what would you want with her?" Draco asked, carding his fingers through Hermione's hair possessively.

She winced when they immediately became tangled.

"Shite, sorry, love," he muttered, shocking her with the endearment when he frowned at her. "Your hair's a right bloody mess, actually."

"Real flattering, mate," Theo taunted.

"Theo, fuck off," Draco grumbled. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

He looked over at his friend distractedly before looking back at her hair as he tried to free his hands from the bird's nest it had become.

"It's after lunchtime and you're still not up," Theo shrugged. "Thought you might be wallowing or something. I came to drag you out – or scare you out with threats of joining you in bed and having my wicked way with you if you didn't move."

"That'd have sent me screaming, for sure," Draco said nastily, and Hermione laughed.

"And yet here I find the rarest sight in all the world. Oi, Greg, come here. Look at this."

"Really, Theodore?" Hermione asked, twisting her head to frown at the boy as he beckoned more of Draco's friends over to gawp at the two of them.

"I'm an opportunist, Granger," Theo winked at her.

"I'm a sadist," she warned in return. "You would do well to remember it if you keep irritating me."

"Threats, is it?" Theo chuckled. "I'm a masochist, love. I might like it if you get violent."

Hermione smirked evilly. "I doubt it, Theodore."

"Merlin, love, the way you say my name like that…. Mmmm!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his endless ability to deflect and keep right on flirting.

"Well, just what in the bloody hell's going on in here then, eh?" Blaise Zabini suddenly drawled and Hermione closed her eyes in horror at the volume of his voice.

She didn't doubt he'd just alerted the whole sodding common room and Hermione groaned, pulling the covers over herself and Draco as though that might make the gaggle of morons in the doorway clear off.

"I think it's safe to say the secret's out, Granger," Malfoy chuckled, not seeming the least put out about the nosiness of his friends or the way they were all jeering and laughing in the doorway.

"Oi, Malfoy, you can't keep her all to yourself forever, you selfish bastard. Granger, love, be a dear and give us a smile, yeah?" Zabini taunted, his voice coming closer while they both had their heads under the covers.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked of Malfoy worriedly when Zabini began tugging on the bedcovers like he might rip them away.

"Give them what they came for," Malfoy shrugged, and Hermione squeaked when he ducked his head just a bit before capturing her lips in a hot kiss.

He smoothed his hands down her back and rolled them across the mattress until she was pinned beneath him once more, just as Zabini yanked the duvet off the two of them, revealing them both in all their nudity to the increasingly large crowd in Draco's doorway. Hermione's urge to pull the covers back or try to protect her modesty went out the window when Malfoy's tongue swept into her mouth to tangle with her own.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Hermione heard someone who sounded suspiciously like Seamus grumble, though she wasn't opening her eyes or breaking the kiss to find out.

"Woooooo!" Zabini crowed. "Blimey, that's hot. Granger, darling, how do you feel about being shared between two blokes, eh? You don't mind do you, Malfoy?"

Hermione tangled her fingers into Malfoys soft, sleep-mussed blond hair, securing his mouth to hers and making it more than clear that she didn't want to be anywhere else.

"Aw, don't be like that," Zabini laughed. "Draco, buddy, could you be a friend?"

Hermione made a sound of protest when Malfoy pulled back from her, his breath coming in little pants thanks to the intensity of their snog. He peered into her eyes for a long moment and Hermione looked back at him, her cheeks steadily turning redder by the second.

"Zabini?" Malfoy said, turning his head just far enough to look at his friend without for a moment lifting off Hermione enough to let his friends see any of her vital areas. "Piss off, mate. This one's mine."

"Hooooo!" Theo hummed, giving a low whistle from the door as though recognizing something more to Malfoy's words than just an unwillingness to share.

"For real?" Blaise asked, his eyebrows lifting as though Malfoy had said something profound.

Hermione watched Draco nod, her brow furrowing a little when he looked back at her and his eyes traced over her face curiously as though he wasn't sure what to make of her confused reaction.

"Bit on the nose, isn't it, mate?" Goyle piped up.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"A bit," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

"You know how this looks, right?" a female voice spoke up, and Hermione turned her head toward the door to spy Pansy Parkinson peering over Theo's shoulder and looking extremely disapproving.

"Yeah, I know," Draco said.

"This is a joke, right?" Goyle said. "You're joking. Granger's too smart not to see through this for what it is, Draco."

"A desperate attempt to paint the Malfoy's as something other than bigoted twats?" Hermione suggested, rolling her eyes.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Draco confessed to the lot of them, though he didn't elaborate. "Are you all done gawking? I'm naked here."

"Like we've never seen that before?" Zabini chuckled.

"Like we're not enjoying the view?" Theo purred, still leaning in the doorway.

"Piss off, would you?" Draco grumbled before he leaned down and captured her lips once more, kissing her slower this time as he curled his arms under her body and held her to him more firmly.

His body pressed hers into the mattress and Hermione couldn't resist scraping her nails against his scalp and drawing a soft sound of delight from him.

"Bloody hell, this is getting heated," she heard Goyle mutter. "Come on, you lot. I'm starving. If Malfoy wants to devour his… Granger… we don't need to see. Let's get to lunch."

"But it's just getting good," Theo protested.

Hermione broke from Draco's lips with a giggle at his words, shaking her head as she laughed.

"Oi, fuck off, would you?" Draco said to his friends. "You're cramping my style, you pack of animals. Can't you see I'm busy, here?"

"This is going to get messy," Hermione heard Parkinson mutter.

"You better believe it," Draco responded to her, smirking at Hermione evilly and Hermione gasped, socking him in the arms in protest.

"Don't be disgusting," she scolded.

Malfoy only laughed, and Hermione noticed the way he really was quite handsome when he smiled so genuinely. His friends were laughing too, even as Goyle nudged the others out the door before pulling it closed behind them all, leaving Hermione and Draco alone, once more.

"Well," Hermione sighed, shaking her head a little and at something of a loss for what to say.

"We wanted people to find out," Draco reminded her.

Hermione nodded. "I know. I just… don't much like being interrupted."

"Want me all to yourself, do you, Granger?" Draco smirked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I just don't want the entire school seeing my bum," she replied.

"Why not? It's a nice bum," he said, rolling the two of them once more and sliding his hands down her back to caress her bum adoringly.

"Thanks," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do I want to know what your friends currently believe we are to one another? They seemed awfully surprised when you called me yours."

Draco shrugged his shoulders, his hands tracing over her rear lightly as though he was trying to memorize every curve.

"Told them we're an item. That  _was_  your intention when you crawled back into bed with me this morning, yeah?" he asked. "It's that, or murder… So… they're under the impression that I rocked your world so much you immediately forgot what a prat I am, and we'll live happily ever after."

Hermione laughed meanly.

"As though there's anything powerful enough in the world to make me forget what a prat you are?" she challenged, and Malfoy smirked before he smacked her arse hard enough to sting, making her jump. She uttered a little squeak of surprise at the burn of the spank, before narrowing her eyes on Malfoy when he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

"I'm thinking that dating you might actually lead to murder," Hermione informed him nastily, though she wasn't entirely sure she meant it.

"Sure, you are," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "As though you won't fall for my charms and wind up besotted with me for all of your days."

"That'll be the day," Hermione scoffed, earning herself another spank, this time to the other bum cheek.

"Keep insulting me, love. Go on," he threatened, looking very much like he'd enjoy spending the rest of the day listening to her squeaks of surprise every time he spanked her.

"And bring you such joy?" Hermione scoffed. "I don't think so. Let go, would you? I need a shower, and I'm actually getting kind of hungry."

"Want company?" he offered without releasing her.

"In the shower?" she asked. "Or at lunch?"

"Both," he shrugged.

"Not sick of me yet, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows, genuinely surprised by the offer.

"Sick of my girlfriend?" he asked, smirking at the startled expression she shot him to hear him calling her that. "Not after less than twenty-four hours, love. Besides, if I don't join you in the shower, how else are you going to work enough conditioner through that nest of curls to ever get it all untangled, eh?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him.

"How bad is it?" she wanted to know, rolling off him and rising to her feet before crossing the room to spot her reflection.

"Looks like you lost a fight with a badger and he turned your hair into his set," Draco said, oh so kindly.

"Better than looking like someone dipped me in bleach," Hermione retorted, and she squealed when Malfoy leapt out of bed, crossed the room, and spanked her all over again.

"I'm going to spank you every time you insult me, love," he warned, smirking at her in the mirror when she jumped.

"Now you're just encouraging me to be mean to you," Hermione replied, and she couldn't help but giggle when his face went slack with surprise before he began to laugh out loud.


End file.
